#stresses out about job searching > finds job > hates job > starts cycle again
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Work Issues Brain Dump
Dumping out my thoughts here..Had a pretty rough week at work last week, and spiraled out of control right after wards. A coworker I previously had a good relationship with, lashed out at me and didn't bother apologizing even after I explained the situation to him, that what he was blaming me for never happened. Then a change which I made, which I had thought would be minor, turned out to be impacting because of another system issue, so I faced backlash from others. Right after these 2 incidents, (which happened on the same day) spiraled into cycle of self-blame and feelings of worthlessness and anxiety for 5 days straight. Have a pretty consistent past of not feeling good about myself ever due to toxic parents, and dealing with anxiety and depression. TBH I pretty much hate this job, because of unclear expectations, a lack of a clear management, blaming me for things out of my control etc. But I am stuck and scared to leave because I don't think I can find another gig as high paying in this awful market. I constantly struggle with back and forth on whether the people/job/management is toxic or it is just me and my lack of self worth issues triggering me. My sense of identifying toxic people got pretty fucked up due to my parents toxic parenting. My therapist has been really helpful with this though and she said there is pretty clear evidence that some of the people I work with are overly aggressive and project anger onto others when they are stressed. I worry since this is my first job post college it has messed me up in terms of dealing with work situations, hit my self worth real hard. I am planning to start the job search again now but I am so scared of rejection/failure and the feeling of being hopeless. Dumping all my thoughts here as my therapist recommended it would help me get in touch with my sense of reason and logic once again and stop catastrophizing.
Started a new tumblr blog today gonna use it to build up a archive of positive images and quotes and be there to give myself a hug when nobody else will.
#anxiety#work stuff#post-graduate#life struggles#jobsearch#mental health#positive thoughts#hug yourself
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um... despite my complaining about job searching all the time i actually haven’t seriously been searching at all this whole time lol (just been halfassedly applying to whatever shows up on my fb feed) but now that i’m taking this shit seriously...
FIRSTLY) every single job looks so unappealing i do not care about ANY of this shit i DON’T want to work at ALL. i don’t even mean this in a quirky-lazy way i just am so repulsed by the idea of working at a job that reading job descriptions makes me want to die.
SECONDLY) i want to stay in j*pan but all the jobs i’m qualified are teaching jobs only... i will honestly fucking end it if i have to teach engl*sh WTF i only like the student counseling aspect of teaching?? and i only like teaching high levels teaching the ABCs every day makes me want to fucking die so bad omfg... omfg. how come there are no jobs that give visas i’m so desperate holy fuck
THIRDLY) i want to go back to amer*ca to be vaccinated but the idea of having to interact w wh*te amer*cans freaks me out so much LOL i can’t handle it.. even just watching english language tv pisses me off now bc i imagine having to interact w the average amer*can and i get so annoyed alksdjlfkdf i can’t take it i can’t do it.. i just can’t do it i want to stay in asia forever T___T why the hell does my most fluent language have to be english...
FOURTHLY) the idea of having to have a JOB with an ACTUAL boss and supervisor who can actually give me consequences is so stressful i never want to suck up ever again i never want to feel below someone ever again i never want to WORK!!!! holy fucking shit i don’t want to WORK!!! i don’t want a workplace i don’t want to have to do pointless activities i don’t want to make small talk i don’t want to help a company succeed (ew) i don’t want to help capitalism run wtf!!!! i don’t want to do it!!!!!!
FIFTHLY) i have no passions or interests or any particular talents lol (besides sucking up, making conversation w ppl i don’t know/know well, and making jokes which are all fucking useless anyways)
i have to make it big as an artist of some sort immediately omfg that’s the only way i can think of that lets you escape this stupid ass game... fuck life
#how come life is like#stresses out about job searching > finds job > hates job > starts cycle again
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tw // noises , loud noises : osomatsu afraid of an emergency alert system test
I went ahead and made it an actual emergency alert, because rainy days and Mondays and whatnot-
also it's worth noting I did look up Japan's emergency alert system, but I have no idea how J-Alert actually functions, I've just kind of assumed it's similar to the system that's in place where I live XD
Osomatsu, you've got some top-notch little brothers there!!
it's technically Allmatsu but like... big Sokudomatsu vibes tho :D
-
All things considered, a few days of bad weather keeping all the sextuplets cooped up in the house pretty much guarantees that they’re all going to be on edge.
They’re occasionally two seconds away from being at each other’s throats anyway, with all the challenges of being a big family in a small house. When the skies darken and open up with rain, though, it all becomes that much worse.
It means Ichimatsu can’t venture out to feed the stray cats, because being out in the cold rain for so long will probably lead to him getting sick. The comfort and stress relief that Karamatsu finds in playing guitar on the roof is vanished into thin air. Everyone has to keep Jyushimatsu from going outside since he’s half determined to play baseball even when it’s pouring. Choromatsu can’t hit the streets in search of a job or anything; too much chance of getting caught in a torrential downpour far from home. That’s also the reason Totty can’t make any plans with his friends, and counts his blessings that he doesn’t have any work shifts during these days.
All things being equal, Osomatsu is almost certainly the most laidback of their little group. Big brother tries his best to find solutions to keep all of them distracted, such as playing games or helping everyone settle on what TV show they should watch. Even though there are other places he’d rather be right now ― like the races or pachinko or maybe somewhere trying to pick up girls ― he can acknowledge that it’s kind of nice to spend time with his brothers when they can’t go outside.
The rain’s been coming down steadily today, a constant pattering that’s rhythmic and borderline soothing. It’s already put Ichimatsu and Totty to sleep, the two of them curled up under a blanket together. Before they fell asleep, Totty said something about the storm being “free ASMR”, whatever that means, and Ichimatsu mumbled an agreement as they cuddled in against each other.
To be completely honest, the energy in the house in general is pretty low. That might be best for a stormy day. Everyone can chill out and recharge their energy.
For the most part, Osomatsu is playing at being as responsible as he can handle today; gathering snacks, making tea, keeping kerosene in the heater so nobody gets too cold. Now that Totty and Ichimatsu are down for the count, everyone else is starting to get sleepy. Which, of course, means it’s time for a collective nap.
He takes a look around the room as he settles in on the couch himself. There’s Ichimatsu and Totty under their single blanket, seeming to be getting along just fine to share it. Choromatsu and Karamatsu are nuzzled against each other with their legs under the kotatsu, with Choromatsu’s head resting on Karamatsu’s shoulder and Karamatsu’s head resting on top of Choromatsu’s. And Jyushimatsu is… huddled up in a few blankets near the couch. For all intents and purposes, sleep has apparently claimed him, too.
Well, that’s good. Now that he’s made sure all his little brothers are comfortable, Osomatsu can doze off himself.
There’s a leftover blanket folded up at the end of the couch, so he pulls it up around himself and lies down with his head propped against one of the arms of the couch. He’d certainly like to be nestled up with one of the others, but he’s not gonna disturb them for that. They’re all in their own pairs, save for Jyushimatsu, and he’s not going to make the second youngest clamber up onto the couch just because Osomatsu wants some physical contact.
Besides, he can get that later if he wants. It’s going to be chilly and dreary all day, so more snuggles are inevitable. If he gets lucky, everyone will gravitate to one big cuddle puddle after dinner.
So he does his best to relax on the couch. He closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing down a bit. The rain continues to pound in sheets against the window, and in heavy drops against the roof. There’s the soft rumbling of thunder that’s begun in the background, so low and powerful he can feel it. Somehow, it’s a comfort, something that whispers to him that he can go to sleep now.
Surrounded by his brothers and the lullaby of the storm outside, it’s easy to drift off.
Osomatsu is nearly sunk down into the beginnings of a deep sleep when suddenly, a blaring alarm goes off. And it’s not just one ― it sounds like several firing off in perfect, irritating harmony.
He can’t explain why he has the reaction he does. All he knows is that the abrupt, loud, obnoxious noise cuts through everything else and seems to hit the panic button in his head. A terrified yell rips itself from his throat, and he’s bolt upright. Then he’s on the floor, rolled onto Jyushimatsu and waking his younger brother up.
“HOLY MOLY!” And as soon as Jyushimatsu shouts, it’s enough to wake everyone else up. How anybody could sleep through that siren is beyond Osomatsu, though he’s pretty sure if anyone could, Jyushimatsu could. “Osomatsu-nii-san! You’re on top of me! What the heck is that?! Are we late for school???”
Totty groans as he’s woken up in the rudest way possible. “We’re too old for school, Jyushimatsu-nii-san. We’re adults.” He pulls his phone out, and his other hand reaches to pat Ichimatsu on the head. “Aaahnnmmm… it’s a weather alert.”
“Severe thunderstorm warning,” Choromatsu groans, having turned to glance at the TV. “Looks like it’s only gonna last till like 7 P.M., though.”
Karamatsu yawns and rubs at his eyes. “Should we get supplies together in case the power goes out?”
“The rest of you dumbasses can do that,” Ichimatsu huffs. “I’m not moving. As soon as the alerts stop making that shitty noise, I’m going back to sleep.”
“Well, I guess it falls to the three oldest, then.” Choromatsu stretches, giving a quiet, “Oof” when something in his back pops. “Osomatsu, do you wanna come help us… uh… Osomatsu?”
Strangely enough, the eldest brother is still incapacitated from the unexpected sounds, curled into a ball with his hands pressed over his ears. There might even be tears in his eyes, if one’s looking close enough.
Jyushimatsu runs a gentle hand, (or sleeve, as it were), over his big brother’s head, seeing as he’s the closest one. “I think something’s wrong with Osomatsu-nii-san. He’s all shivery and breathing funny.”
That’s really all it takes for Choromatsu to be over lightning-fast, knelt down next to the eldest. “Osomatsu? Osomatsu-nii-san, are you okay?” He frowns and tentatively tugs one of Osomatsu’s hands away from his ear. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Th… the noise…” His hand is trembling in his younger brother’s grip, tears welling up in his eyes. It still feels like his heart is trying to hammer its way out of his chest completely. He can’t really get a good breath in.
Choromatsu’s brow furrows and he looks back toward the TV, which Karamatsu scrambles to turn off in case it’s the prolonged sound causing the problem. “Did you… ahah… it startled you, right? I think it startled all of us…”
Ichimatsu pushes himself up a bit so he can turn his attention to his older brothers. “Looks like it did more than startle him. He’s about to jump out of his skin.”
“Ah…” Choromatsu quickly gathers Osomatsu into his arms, and is surprised with the fervor with which the eldest clings to him. It reminds them both of… being kids. “H-hey, Osomatsu-nii-san… it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s over now. Can you, um, try to follow my pattern of breathing here? That might help you calm down.”
Osomatsu nods and does his best, mirroring the way Choromatsu inhales for four seconds, holds the breath for seven, and exhales for eight. It takes several cycles, a few minutes’ worth of this, before he can feel himself starting to be a little less shaky. His heart is still pounding, but not as fast as it was a moment ago.
Choromatsu holds him carefully, rubbing Osomatsu’s back, until he can feel the tension beginning to fade from his brother’s muscles. That was… weird. It’s not like Osomatsu to get so anxious, especially not to the point that he’s crying. “There… is it better now?”
“Y… yeah…” Osomatsu raises a hand in an attempt to scrub the tears away. Man… how embarrassing. He’s the oldest and he’s over here acting like a baby because of a stupid weather alert. “Sorry… I, uh, don’t know where that came from, haha.”
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Neither of them make any move to get out of the position for a minute, then Choromatsu gradually pulls away once he can’t hear his older brother’s heart beating like a gong. “You… good?”
“Yeah… yeah, I think so.”
Ichimatsu stretches his arms above his head. “Damn. I guess we’re all awake. I hate those alert things… remember that one night when we were kids, and it came on just as we were getting ready for bed?”
Totty laughs, rolling over and propping his face up against one arm. “Yeah, I remember Choromatsu told me they were warning us a big storm was gonna come and wash all the baby brothers out to sea.”
“A-ah…” Choromatsu’s face goes red in an instant. He was such a little bastard as a child. “I’m sorry about that, Totty!”
He waves a hand. “Nah, it’s okay! ‘Cause remember what we did next?”
“Ah… I remember!” Karamatsu grins. “We all said we wouldn’t let the storm get you, and we wrapped you up in blankets and stood guard the whole night.”
“Until we fell asleep,” Jyushimatsu giggles. “I remember panicking when we woke up, but then we all high-fived each other when we saw Totty was still there in the morning!”
“W-we could do that again,” Choromatsu suggests, stealing a peek at their eldest who still appears to be tired. “Except this time…”
Totty’s up in a second. “Ooh, yeah!! Let’s cocoon Osomatsu-nii-san so the big, bad weather alerts can’t hurt him!”
Osomatsu feels like he should be having the hairs on the back of his neck stand up right about now. Instead, he feels sort of warm in a good way when everyone starts to wrap blankets around him. “Geez… you guys don’t need to do all this shit…”
“Well, no, but it’ll be fun.” Choromatsu gives him a smile and nestles in against his older brother’s side. “I’ll take first watch.”
Osomatsu snorts, but lets his head fall on top of Choromatsu’s anyway.
“Man… you guys are lame.”
Thank God for that, though.
#loud noise tw#Osomatsu san#whump#Sokudomatsu#Allmatsu#Osomatsu#anxiety#hurt/comfort#LOOK AT THESE GOOD BOYS#TAKING CARE OF THEIR BIG DUMB LEADER#WARMS MY COCKLES LEMME TELL YA
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End of the Day (Crystal x Gigi) - Ashley
A/N: The plan was simple. All Crystal had to do was pretend to be her twin for one week: sit silently in seminars, only leave her room for her basic necessities and stick closely to the set of rules she was left with. Only the rule that stated she “mustn’t bother the bitch from downstairs” became a lot harder for Crystal to follow once she had laid eyes on Gigi Goode.
Hope you guys like this!! Think of it as Breakfast at Tiffany’s meets She’s the Man only at a Russell Group where there’s a stereotype around every corner. Sending infinite thank you’s to Meggie for being a fab beta. p.s thanks so much for all the lovely feedback for Everything Has Changed (I could have cried reading some of it)…xoxo Ashley.
“No way.” Crystal dropped the pencil she toyed with, a laugh squeaking out of her throat at her sister’s audacity.
“It’s only a week,” she pleaded over the phone, the voice that had convinced Crystal to do stupid things since they were children making its reappearance.
“You seriously want me to pretend to be you just so you can jet off to Majorca to see that creep?”
“Yes!” Elle ignored Crystal’s clear disdain. “That is exactly what I want. We used to do it all the time in school.”
“You’re crazy, actually insane.”
Crystal was used to her sister’s wild antics, but this plot may have been a step too far.
“But you love me.”
“I hate you.”
“It’s not like you have any plans.” Elle held no hesitation in poking the bear - the boundaries between the two twins almost non-existent.
“I have Depop orders actually,” Crystal snapped back, a tiny part of resentment that her sister was attending one of the best universities in the country whilst she was sitting at home making jewellery rising inside of her body but not quite breaking the surface.
“£200.”
Crystal stopped in her tracks - now she was listening.
“It won’t work anyway, people will notice!”
“They won’t. I don’t speak to anyone in my college anyway and my course friends won’t say anything, just stay in bed all day once you’ve been to my seminars. I’ll even give you my Disney+ password.”
A hint of worry rose in Crystal’s mind; she wondered how her more outgoing other half had managed to go to university and not make friends in her accommodation. Where Crystal was shy and nervous throughout the entirety of her education, Elle had never been afraid to put herself out there, always surrounded by one group of pretty girls or another. “So what am I supposed to do in these seminars then? It’s not like I have an extensive knowledge of anthropology is it?”
“All you have to do is sign in and sit there pretending to type - they don’t even pick on you I swear. And it’s the last week before we break up so everyone will be really chill.”
“£300,” Crystal responded, the idea of escaping the four walls of her bedroom whilst making three months of her usual income beginning to tempt her, cursing internally at how easily convinced she was.
“I can’t give you £300.” Crystal could hear that her sister was talking through a grin despite not being able to see her face, the grin that meant she’d won.
“Well, you can’t go to Majorca then.”
“Three hundred pounds it is,” Elle agreed. “But you better get me a decent Christmas present.”
“Deal,” Crystal responded, knowing she had already purchased her sister’s gift two months prior. “Now, tell me absolutely everything I need to know about collegiate life.”
“It’s a good job. I knew you’d say yes and already planned this part out.” Elle beamed, proud at her ability to convince her timid younger-by-ten-minutes sister to do almost anything.
***
If secondary school was supposed to be a jungle of cliques, then Elle’s college may as well have been the Amazon rainforest.
Walking through the incredibly hard to find dining hall for breakfast, Crystal could make out almost every university stereotype she could think of, each confined to their own special hold.
From the druggies to the athletes, to the Oxbridge rejects, to the girls who borrowed daddy’s credit card - they were all there and thriving. A small part of Crystal wanted to go and sit with who she decided were the artsy girls despite knowing her sister wouldn’t be caught dead doing so.
Trying not to draw attention to herself, she kept her head down as she made it to the front of the queue, Elle’s clear step-by-step of how she approached meals playing through her head on repeat, the weeks of planning for this moment all coming into play.
Only at that moment, she panicked, the child’s paint by numbers that were her instructions started to turn into a set of IKEA diagrams without captions in her brain. Wishing she’d stuck to eating a pot noodle in her sister’s room, Crystal’s body froze in a state of fear after dolloping a ladle of baked beans onto her toast. A tonne (or maybe ten tonnes) of bricks smacked her right between the eyes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to pull this off. The lack of self-confidence she always battled with ran thick through her veins, her thoughts turning to ways she could go home and return to the comfort of her hometown, willing to sacrifice her sister’s already flagged attendance and the three hundred pounds to be watching Bake Off with her mam in the kitchen.
It almost happened in slow motion, time losing its speed as the boy behind her walked into Crystal’s back, propelling her tray forward onto an unsuspecting blonde. An unsuspecting blonde who seemed the opposite of dumb.
“What the fuck?” She snapped her head around to Crystal, thick brows furrowed and pink lips pursed.
“I’m sorr-” Crystal started, beating herself up internally at how she had managed to do the exact opposite of laying low despite being only one night into her weeklong mission.
“This won’t come out!” The girl started turning her neck frantically to the back of her shirt, the white satin stained bright orange.
Her mouth opening but no words coming out, Crystal didn’t have a chance to apologise again before the girl had a swarm of minions dabbing her back with tissues.
“It’ll be okay, G.” One of them took her hand. Crystal wanted to burst out in tears like she usually did at the smallest sign of conflict, pinching the skin on the back of her hand and looking at the white ceiling lights to stop herself.
“So long as people look where they’re going.” The girl, G, cast a terrifying yet beautiful scowl in Crystal’s direction before sauntering away.
So much for laying low, she sighed before leaving the queue herself, her body tingling as if she’d hit her funny bone over a dozen times. The girl’s stare still imprinted in the back of her eyes.
Having narrowly avoided a panic attack, Crystal thought hard about her old coping mechanisms and tried her best to remain positive as she did after these situations, sitting down at an empty table and giving herself a pat on the back that she had at least passed as Elle without any doubts, ready to take the rest of her day by storm (also known as sitting in silence and occasionally nodding her head as a bunch of middle ages men discuss human evolution and diversity).
***
Having achieved three B grades by the end of sixth form and the award for ‘most creative’ in their final assembly, Crystal always thought of herself as somewhat intelligent and capable of living in the real world despite her decision not to go to university like her sister.
Yet there she stood, her face in a scowl and her fist in a ball, completely and utterly perplexed by the laundry system.
After sleeping in her sister’s dirty sheets the night before, she had arrived back to the college with hopes of resting her head on a pillow that wasn’t mascara stained and washing her face with a flannel sans toothpaste blobs (which was basic hygiene in Crystal’s opinion, but she hadn’t expected anything more from her twin). Only those dreams were temporarily dashed as she spent an entire thirty minutes pressing buttons and swiping the card Elle had left her manically against an aged machine.
Thirty-six internet searches and two desperate phone calls to her sister later, Crystal was beaming at the sheets swirling around, not a care in the world at how much of a psychopath she would look to anyone entering the room, the stress she had previously faced in getting the machine to work inducing her to stay and wait for the clothes to wash instead of leaving them like normal practice.
Elle had seemed happy on the phone, gushing to Crystal about how tanned she’d gotten in such a short space of time and how delicious all the food was - Crystal shutting her down quickly by reminding her that such a tan would only alert their mother to the fact she’d spent a week abroad visiting the sleazy holiday rep she’d fallen in love with that summer rather than in the brown-bricked, straight from a horror movie, sixties’ style complex that Crystal was currently residing in.
Crystal made a mental note to text her mam later and tell her how much she was enjoying her time “visiting her sister” - knowing fine well that talking to her on the phone would probably cause her to crumble and confess their scheme.
She had always been a family orientated person, always choosing a night in the house watching movies over playing out with friends, crying buckets the day her sister moved out and started a new chapter of her life without her. It was clear her mother wanted her to get out into the world, knowing she was capable of more than selling jewellery online, but unlike her sister, Crystal wasn’t quite ready to leave her home yet, needing that extra push to get her feet moving that just hadn’t come her way yet.
She figured that spending a week pretending to be her sister may actually be a good start.
Lost away with her head in the clouds like usual, Crystal was snapped back to surface level as her phone chimed to signal the end of the cycle, only to find herself even more frustrated when she realised that no dryers were free.
Today really hadn’t been her day.
She personally blamed the lack of lucky necklace around her neck (Elle telling her specifically during their planning stages that she would never wear such a monstrosity and Crystal following suit despite knowing it was only entrenched in their rules because her sister thought it was ugly). Her secret superstitious side kicking in, she thanked herself for bringing some of her jewellery making gadgets with her, figuring she’d have to make her own version of it, for now, it wasn’t as if she had any better way to spend her evening.
Seeing a dryer with two minutes left until it timed out, Crystal figured she’d simply wait until it had been emptied to use it, allowing her brain to return back to Pinterest for a short period of time.
But ten minutes passed and no one came to empty the machine.
She glanced at the other piles of clothes that lay on top of the machines, figuring it was normal to remove other people’s when none were free, the thought of her sheets staying wet and crinkled making her feel uneasy.
Opening the dryer, she was hit immediately by a waft of lavender, reassuring herself that it was okay to move the clothes and feeling almost proud of herself for making a leap the old Crystal would have ran from in fear of awkwardness.
Being her most careful, she picked the clothes one by one and started to fold them, her brain subconsciously admiring the mystery tartan-wearer’s sense of fashion and wishing she had the confidence to wear some of the outfits. That was when her hands met a satin blouse, a familiar satin blouse with an orange tinge on its white back.
Before she had time to process that the clothes she was moving belonged to the pretty girl from breakfast, Crystal’s train of thought was interrupted by the devil herself.
“Admiring your handiwork?” She strutted over and snatched the shirt back from Crystal’s hands.
Crystal couldn’t quite place her accent but she knew it was Southern. Her overactive imagination hearing the girl whisper dirty thoughts to her in that posh voice without being able to stop herself.
Oh, fuck.
“I’m sorry.” Crystal turned to her, not even attempting to act like anything other than the soft wimp she was inside. “I didn’t mean to.”
Crystal looked into the girl’s eyes, almost seeing her melt a little before her.
She felt the tension between them, dense and heavy in the air.
“It’s fine,” the blonde responded, losing the passive-aggressive tone she’d carried beforehand but still not sounding entirely sincere as she began to throw her clothes into her hamper.
Crystal couldn’t help but gawk a little as she began to strut away, her body swishing like a model’s as she made her way out of the room, pausing for a second at the door.
“Can you do me a favour, though?” the girl called back to Crystal.
‘I think I’d give both of my kidneys to you’ Crystal thought. Only it instead came out as an awkwardly stuttered, “Erm, sure.”
“Turn your music down, please.” She shot a sarcastic smile in Crystal’s direction. Crystal felt it burrow straight through her chest cavity and into her fast-beating heart. “I know that anthropology may be a bit simpler than most degrees, but some of us really struggle to work when all they can hear is your shit music directly above them.”
Her mouth dropping open to catch flies as the girl left the room for good, a pang of realisation hit Crystal.
Opening her phone and flicking through the dramatic guide to her sister’s university life that was now saved at the top of her notes, she found what she’d been looking for:
“12. DO NOT, under any circumstances, bother the bitch downstairs.”
Too late, Crystal thought to herself, wondering how many more of her sister’s rules she would have broken by the end of the week.
***
Crystal would be lying if she said she hadn’t been watching out for the blonde that week, whose name she had figured out (after an intensive Facebook stalking session) to be Gigi.
Yes, she was lying low, not leaving Elle’s room other than for seminars and to eat - but that didn’t stop her from taking stolen glances at the girl across the dining hall or walking up that second flight of stairs to the room just a fraction slower than she did the first flight.
Three days at university and she’d somehow turned back into a fourteen-year-old girl fantasising about the most popular girl in the class.
Except this time, the popular girl didn’t even know her real name.
She felt like Tracy from Hairspray - one look and she could hear the wedding bells playing in the back of her head.
But at the same time, Crystal knew what was at stake - leaving their interactions to intense eye contact and mumbled “excuse mes,” knowing that even speaking to Gigi again could blow her entire cover.
Yet, she somehow managed to do exactly that on Wednesday night. Or, technically, the early hours of Thursday morning.
At first, Crystal tried to ignore the argument below her, drowning out their voices with her headphones (partly because she felt like she was intruding and partly because listening to people screaming at each other, like a lot of things, made her cry). However, as the war below was still awaiting a cease-fire, snippets of conversation slid their way into the room.
“Why do you have to do this on every night out?”
“I just want what’s best for you.”
“You don’t know what’s best for me.”
She could hear the pain in Gigi’s voice heighten right before her door slammed, Crystal wincing in bed at the sound.
Expecting to hear male footsteps stomp away, Crystal was surprised to instead hear lighter ones, making their way up the stairs and past her landing, a muffled sob travelling through her door.
Looking out of the window, she squinted in the dark until she saw the red glow of a cigarette from their fire escape, the hum of an unfamiliar tune making its way through the thin walls.
She knew it was a risk, but it was one that Crystal couldn’t help but take when she thought of the beautiful girl from the laundry room freezing in the cold.
Grabbing her sister’s spare dressing gown, she made her way onto the landing, taking a deep breath before going out onto the fire escape.
Logic and speech pushed to the back part of her mind, Crystal simply made her way over to the other girl and sat down beside her, placing the dressing gown over her slim shoulders.
Even in the dark, she could see how perfect Gigi was.
The mole on the side of her cheek.
The soft pout on her lips.
Despite the mascara smudged down her face and her eyes stinging red, Crystal thought she looked like an angel.
“Hi,” Gigi spoke to her, dropping the cigarette she smoked on the floor and pressing it out with her trainers.
“Hi,” Crystal spoke back, unsure of what to say to the girl, blood rushing through her at a rate of knots, nervous filling her body and bursting through her head like she was some sort of human kettle.
“I guess you know what I mean about the music now.”
“Yeah.” Crystal nodded in the dark. “It’s noted.”
“I’m sorry about Karl…” Gigi trailed off, taking some time before speaking again. “He just gets like that sometimes when he’s had a drink. I know he doesn’t mean it. I guess you know that.”
Unsure of who Karl was, or why she was supposed to know that, Crystal began to feel like she was drowning. Only instead of jumping on the next lifeboat, she swam down deeper for Gigi.
A part of her was afraid, afraid she’d read the aura surrounding the other girl so wrong, afraid that Karl was her boyfriend.
“Mmhmm,” Crystal responded, maybe a bit more high pitched than she naturally would have.
“Don’t get me wrong, he’s my best friend. But sometimes a part of me thinks that he just doesn’t have any idea who I really am if you get me.”
Crystal couldn’t have understood any better at that moment.
All she wanted to do was tell her. To tell her how hard it was when everyone expected you to be the same as another person. How awful it felt when they never knew the real you, only a shell of the more outgoing sister.
Only she couldn’t, so she did the next best thing and placed her hand on the girl’s forearm, instantly getting a shock at how cold she felt.
“Do you wanna go inside? We can make hot chocolate,” she suggested, noting how Gigi’s body relaxed under her touch.
“He’s still in my room.” Gigi rolled her eyes. “I just can’t deal with him right now, it needs to be left for the morning.”
“You can stay in mine,” Crystal asked, squeezing her grip ever so slightly.
What was she doing?
This wasn’t part of the plan.
And it was certainly breaking some of the rules.
Potentially all of them combined.
This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
But nothing filled her with greater relief then when Gigi finally responded: “If you don’t mind, thank you.”
***
At first, she felt awkward as she let Gigi into the room, especially considering the fact it wasn’t hers. But after two hot chocolates each she had felt the most comfortable and at peace as she had since masquerading as her sister.
She watched as Gigi’s eyes made their way around the room, a kid in a sweetie shop, gawking at the treasures around her.
“What’s that?” she spoke between sips, pointing towards Crystal’s craft box that had been haphazardly set up on her sister’s desk.
“Oh.” Crystal went to pick it up, a flutter of warmth rushing through her at the thought of someone, let alone Gigi, being interested in her jewellery. “Just some bits and bobs I make.”
“These are so cool.” Gigi held a pair of scarlet earrings up and examined them closer, her mouth opening slightly as she focused. “Like the ones you had in the other day.”
Crystal’s face turned a deeper red than the earrings, the thought of Gigi remembering what she wore sending shivers down her spine - her head telling her heart on an auto loop that no matter what she thought about Gigi, all of Gigi’s returned thoughts were instead about Elle.
“Yeah,” she choked out, nipping her skin to bring herself back to reality.
“You should sell these!” Gigi gasped as she rooted through more of Crystal’s collection. “I sell the clothes I make on Depop, we’d make a great team.”
Crystal didn’t get a chance to respond. She was too busy picking the pieces of her exploding heart from the carpet and trying to put it back together again.
“In fact.” Gigi grabbed her phone and began to search.
Crystal decided that her thinking face was even cuter than her regular face.
She was in deep. Too deep.
“I think I follow an account that does stuff like this, let me think, something to do with crystals…”
Way, way too deep.
“I’m feeling a bit tired.” Crystal blurted awkwardly, getting mad at her mother for never placing her in acting lessons as a child, ready for the inevitable week that she’d have to pretend to be her twin sister or else she’d be kicked out of university and murdered by their family. Seeing the almost defeated look on Gigi’s face, she tried again. “But you can show me in the morning?”
“I’d love that.” Gigi smiled.
Crystal wanted to rewind time just to hear that sentence again. She wouldn’t be too greedy, she’d only listen to it one more time. Two at a push.
Making sure to go into the en suite as Gigi got changed, Crystal returned to find her in bed, already asleep, her hair a sprawl of honey against the pink pillows.
She waited a second before turning off the light and getting into bed beside her, something about lying next Gigi sending Crystal into a sleepy haze despite the way her heart had been beating so fast just moments before.
She could hear Gigi breathing, snoring just a little, finding her own breathing starting to sync along.
Sleep was only minutes away from taking over her body when she heard it, the muffled cry coming from the other side of the bed.
“No.” She heard Gigi mumble as she tossed from one side to the other. “Don’t go.”
Crystal placed a reassuring hand on her arm without thought. “Are you alright?”
Gigi woke startled, her eyes beaming at Crystal like a young deer caught in the middle of the road.
“I’m fine.” She realised her surroundings and threw the quilt to one side, moving her body down to the bottom end of the bed. “I best be off.”
“Hey.” Crystal sat up, flicking the lamp on by her bedside. “It’s alright, we can-”
But before she could finish, Gigi was gone. Nothing more than the faint smell of lavender on the pillows and the dark ring of hot chocolate in the bottom of her sister’s mug.
***
Making her way back into the college that evening, Crystal waited by the entrance for a few moments, wondering if she could manage to get to Elle’s room without passing the drinks and shenanigans that were currently taking place in front of her, wondering if she could manage to make it without passing Gigi, more precisely.
Tesco carrier bags full to the brim of every comfort food she could gorge on (salami, cheese, salt and vinegar crisps and three different bars of dairy milk to be precise) as she watched her sister’s Disney+ alone, Crystal concluded that the coast was clear and made her way to the bottom of her stairs without passing Gigi.
The words of the note she had posted under Elle’s door the day beforehand were still dancing around Crystal’s mind like a puzzle that even Professor Layton couldn’t solve:
“Elle, please forgive me for this morning. I don’t know what happens when I get like that..we’re all having drinks at around 8 tomorrow if you wanna join? - Gigi.”
As much as she longed to join Gigi for a drink, Crystal knew that she couldn’t. She’d already put too much on the line, allowed herself to get too close, too emotionally invested. A short text from Elle asking if everything was okay scared her straight, there was too much at stake. Yes, she wanted more than anything to be the one who comforted Gigi the next time she had a nightmare, to make jewellery for her and kiss her forehead whenever she looked stressed. But family meant everything to her, and she knew if anyone were to find out what they’d done, the consequences wouldn’t be worth it.
About to make her way up the stairs, Crystal felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Let me help with those,” the boy motioned to her bags, his voice familiar.
With dark hair slicked back, and skin the colour of caramel, it took Crystal a second to realise where she knew the boy from, remembering his face next to Gigi’s in their corner of the dining hall.
“I’m fine, they’re not heavy.” Crystal tried to walk away but was stopped by his voice, yet again.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come help? It’s been a little while, Elle.” He grinned, a smirk in his eyes that Crystal couldn’t quite trace.
“I’m sorry, I’ll have to catch up with you later,” Crystal responded, trying to remain calm on the outside as her insides reached peak panic mode, her brain mentally scanning her notes for anything mentioning this boy. Her search found no results.
“Oh I get it,” he laughed. “It’s one of your games. Sure, you wanna catch up later.”
That’s when the realisation hit Crystal. Her sister was having sex with this boy. And she completely failed to mention it.
Trying to think of something to say, a heavy silence lingered between them. Broken by a familiar tone that managed to scare her half to death and turn her on at the same time.
“Karl.” Gigi shook her head as she made her way down the staircase, carrying what looked like a sippy cup of vodka red bull in her hands. “Do you mind not trying to shag every girl in college for five seconds?”
“I’ll see you later, Elle.” He muttered before strutting away with Gigi, Crystal making out the word ‘cockblock’ in their hushed conversation as they left.
She knew that Elle didn’t tell her everything.
Just because they were twins they didn’t have to know every detail of each other’s lives, even though they spoke every day. Crystal always knew that. But a part of her heart stung at the thought of her sister not even telling her about a boy she was sleeping with. Is that how far apart they’d grown since Elle came to uni?
Fighting back tears, she made her way up the stairs and tried to call her sister. She knew she was being silly; a part of her had just thought she’d know when her sister was sleeping with someone. So many questions ran through her mind. Was Elle safe? Did she love him? Why didn’t anyone know?
She tried to call again, no answer.
Gigi must have known, Crystal figured - slotting together their interaction the night before with the one they’d just had. Is that why Elle didn’t like her? Why they weren’t friends? Why she’d told Crystal to avoid her?
She answered on the fifth call.
“Hey, babe, I really can’t talk right now.”
Crystal ignored her sister’s words, dropping her shopping outside the door and moving out onto the fire escape, the cold breeze hitting her face harshly.
“Who’s Karl?”
“Oh.” She heard her other half’s surprise, she could see the look on her face, high definition in Crystal’s mind. “I told you not to speak to people, for fuck sake, Crystal.”
“Who’s Karl?”
“I can’t speak about this now.” Her tone lowered, clearly someone else was in her company.
“Who’s Karl?” Crystal asked again, not even stopping to think about how dramatic she was being.
Only her sister had hung up before she could get an answer.
Crystal didn’t know how long she’d been out there when she heard the door open, she didn’t even know if she was still crying or not.
“Hi,” Gigi spoke, almost a whisper, as she approached her. “We gotta stop meeting like this, hey?”
Crystal watched Gigi’s face drop a little at the sight of her, looking hurt the second she got close enough to see her tears.
“Yeah, I-” Crystal started but was swiftly interrupted.
Normally in films, it happened after a moment.
The pair would talk, get deep about their issues, reach a comforting solution then sit for a moment in an all-knowing silence.
Then they’d look into each other’s eyes, letting them flicker down once or twice before meeting again, that lock not leaving until they were shut.
Next came the strand of hair, pushed away and tucked neatly behind the ear.
Finally, the kiss, slow at first then growing in passion.
Only Gigi had no patience.
It took Crystal a second to react, to realise what was happening, to press her lips back against Gigi’s, to race her hand through the other girl’s hair.
It was unexpected.
Yet it felt nothing but natural.
And right.
“I’m sorry.” Gigi pulled away, pausing to bite her tongue between her teeth, a nervous side of her appearing that Crystal had not yet seen. “I know that’s like the last thing you’re meant to do when someone’s upset but, I don’t know, you just looked so sad and-”
This time Crystal wasn’t going to let her finish.
She felt Gigi’s hands wipe the stray tears from her face before moving right down her body to her waist. Moving her body closer so she was almost straddling the other girl, Gigi pulled away for just a second to let out a breath.
Crystal moved her hands round to Gigi’s back, further and further down until she was granted a nod of permission, letting them slide over the silky fabric of her skirt.
Before Crystal knew it she was being pushed back to the ground, Gigi’s long and beautiful body towering over her, as she got to her knees and began to kiss Crystal all over.
Gently, methodically, slowly.
Crystal’s mind was carried away, far from reality and refusing to take away from the moment in front of her.
“I knew you wanted me.” She felt Gigi’s breath tickle her ear, sending hot flushes down her entire body, reaching her hands out to touch the other girl’s breasts.
“Fuck, Elle.” Gigi grinned, flicking a switch in Crystal’s body as she pushed herself backwards away from her touch.
She’d almost forgotten that part.
Looking at the other girl’s confused face, she was lost for words, pulling the strap of her vest top back in its place. She knew she couldn’t do it anymore, she couldn’t keep lying. She would have let Gigi sleep with her thinking that she was someone else. She’d become a monster. She had to tell the truth.
“What the fuck?” A voice came from the door behind them, Karl’s confused face flicking between the pair of them. “Is this a joke?”
“Shit,” Gigi muttered and stood up, but Crystal was frozen in place, her hands and feet turning numb with anxiety, the sky around them warping in time. “I can explain.”
Crystal watched as Gigi chased her friend back into the building, listening to her tell him she was sorry and she just got carried away. Listening to Karl ask if that was why she’d told him to stop sleeping with her. Listening to Gigi explain that it wasn’t it, that something had just changed recently. Listening to her life crumble around her.
And then she heard nothing at all.
Even when she knocked on Gigi’s door later that night, ready to give her the explanation she needed, Crystal heard nothing at all - eventually giving in and retreating to the cave of Elle’s room, with no plans to leave it until their train pulled in at the station.
***
Looking up at the hideous brown bricks in front of her, Elle Barge never thought she’d be so relieved to see the college in her life.
One day earlier than she was supposed to return, she hoped that Crystal would forgive her for withholding some of the stuff she’d been doing at university, thinking that they could have one fun night together before getting the train home the next day, giving at least a hint of truth to their family when they arrived back.
Besides, her holiday romance meet-up hadn’t exactly gone the way she had planned when she accidentally met up with his wife. Hence her early departure.
She figured she’d just have to chalk this one up to being a good story to tell, throwing away her sadness at the thought of having a best-selling novel about her awful love life someday.
Heck, she’d probably already have half of it written with just stories about Karl.
Walking up the stairs to her room, she rolled her eyes at the sight in front of her.
One thing she certainly had not missed was Gigi Goode braying on her door to tell her to turn her music down.
Surely, Crystal wasn’t irritating her, Elle thought to herself. The only music Crystal ever played was One Direction and she hardly blasted it.
“Ahem.” Elle coughed loudly enough for Crystal to hear from inside the room, praying she’d understand with her magic twin sense not to come out (also quickly texting her not to incase the magic twin sense failed them. Elle did not want a repeat of that time in year nine when Jackie Cox asked if they could read each other’s minds).
“Hey.” Gigi turned to face her, a strange look on her face that Elle couldn’t quite decode. Tension started to seep through the stained carpet and up the walls like lava.
“Hi?” Elle raised an eyebrow to her, more of a question than a greeting.
“I’m sorry for ignoring you before,” Gigi started, nodding her head as she got into the rhythm of her speech. “I was just scared and I didn’t know how to say it but I can now. Please just listen and wait ‘til I’m done, I have to explain.”
Minefields began exploding inside Elle’s brain.
She simply nodded.
“I’ve been fucked over in the past. And it still scares me today. You know the other night? That was it, I haven’t felt myself get close to anyone in a while. And I know it’s bad because of Karl and I’m a shitty friend to him but honestly, I think that this is something bigger than that, cause I’ve not felt it for a while. And I think you feel it too. Look, I’m really shit at this but something changed this week, I saw you in this light I’d never caught you in. I might sound mad but I think that I need you.”
Looking back at the girl in front of her with dismay, Elle spoke back the only three words that rang through her brain at that moment.
“What the fuck.”
And then her door opened, her sister’s face peeking out around the corner, clad in the same expression she used to have whenever she’d spilt juice on the carpet or smashed plate. Her hair matted and eyes puffy, Elle immediately moved to her side.
And then Gigi uttered the three words as well - only adding a “fucking” in there too for good measure.
Killing the silence that lingered for some time, Crystal spoke the fastest sentence Elle had ever heard all in one breath: “I’ve been pretending to be my sister so she could go get fucked by a Spanish guy.”
“Wow.” Elle looked back and forth between the pair, recognising a glint in her sister’s eyes that was certainly not there before.
Crystal prepared herself and walked up to Gigi, placing her hand on her arm. “I wanted to tell you so bad. I was going to but then Karl came and everything got messy. I know you probably can’t forgive me, but I saw that bigger thing too and I let myself get carried away in it.”
Gigi looked between the pair and raised a hand to her mouth, letting out a hearty laugh.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Elle pleaded, fear rising inside her.
Silence filled the landing again, the twins standing sheepishly as they gave time for Gigi to process.
“If I’m honest I think I’m less confused now.” Gigi turned to face Crystal and grinned, showing an emotion Elle didn’t think the Barbie doll was even capable of showing. “This makes a lot more sense.”
Elle watched as her sister grinned back, seeing the genuine happiness on her face and throwing away all thoughts about whether or not she’d get in trouble.
“I think I might just be able to forgive you.” Gigi looked her up and down, pouting her lips in a joking manner. “If you let me take you out so we can talk this through over dinner?”
“Yes,” Crystal responded without hesitation.
“But first, could you tell me your name?”
“Crystal.” Elle watched as her sister reached out and shook the other girl’s hand, proud of the growth in confidence she could see - happy to see the return of the happy-go-lucky Crystal who wasn’t too scared to try anything new that she knew as a child.
“Crystal,” Gigi repeated, smiling to herself. “So Crystal, do you go to uni or just hang around at other people’s?”
“Maybe next year.” Crystal smiled back a sense of optimism in her voice. “Are we going for this dinner or what?”
Although it took her a minute to take in what she’d seen, a strange feeling inside of her as she waved her sister goodbye for a date with her bitchy downstairs neighbour, Elle couldn’t help but think that her disaster vacation had all happened for a good reason. In fact, she found herself almost shedding a tear as she heard her sister laughing at something Gigi said on their way downstairs, figuring that she might just see more of her sister than usual next term (and being nothing but happy about it).
#rpdr fanfiction#crystal methyd#gigi goode#crygi#angst#lesbian au#university au#end of the day#ashley#concrit welcome#submission#s12#college au
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Dear her
I remember my moment of clarity like it was yesterday. Which is interesting because I don’t remember much detail from that period of my life. The constant violence, anger and unpredictability put me into a state of fight or flight 24/7, and I have learned that when you live in trauma your mind forgets details in order to protect itself. My mind was protecting me long before I saw the danger I was in. But I remember my moment of clarity. I lived in this adorable little cottage in the old part of town. It was the place to be. We were surrounded by historic remodeled homes, and our little 1920’s cottage was tiny, mended and fixed up just enough to be liveable. I loved that home. It was what I always dreamed of living in when newly married and starting a family. I remember I was standing in the bathroom and I had just thrown up, which is how I started most mornings. At that point I was waking up with uncontrollable anxiety and fear. I couldn’t get out of bed without feeling nauseous. It had become my new routine, start the coffee pot, throw up, get ready for work. But this day was different, I was standing in the bathroom, not wanting to walk into the kitchen, not ready to put on a fake smile and my “everything is ok” look for my husband, I was staring at the scars all over the bathroom walls, partly from the age of the house and some from my husband's fists. I looked in the mirror and I finally saw the darkness I was feeling in my heart through my eyes. I felt as close to dead as one can while still being alive. I didn’t know what to do then, but I did know I was not living, I was barely surviving, and my body was disintegrating from the torture of abuse. I am not religious, It's kind of cheesy, maybe cliche, but in that moment I was reminded of the serenity prayer:“God, please grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”I finally saw that I could not control my husband's abuse, but I could control how I reacted, and it was getting time to leave.Shortly after that morning, my husband’s violence escalated to hitting me in public. It was still another two months before I filed for divorce. I share all of this because when I was asked to write this letter I realized I am writing to her. That woman staring at me in the mirror of that broken bathroom, in my dream home. I pray I never forget that darkness. It keeps me connected to where I came from, what I have overcome, and what others suffering in the silence of domestic violence need to hear.Dear Her,There is no other way to say this except, this situation you are in, being in love with a sick person, sucks. No matter how you look at it, living in this abuse is scary and it's sad. You have zero control of his continued choice to hurt you. I know he tells you differently, that he can’t control himself. He says it's because he has anger issues, and his anger is because of his childhood, or because he can’t keep a job, or because of alcohol, or because he is stressed about money, or because of his parents divorce, or because of his strained relationship with his sister, or because you don’t understand how to make him happy, or because of the way you said something. The list goes on and evolves depending on which excuse is closest to grab after the beating. The fact is, his abuse is a choice. His anger is a choice. He is able to control it when he is around other people. Just not you. This shows that he does have a choice and he chooses to hurt you. He hurts you because in his twisted sick mind, your tears and your fear and your pleading for him to stop because you love him makes him feel loved. It's weird, I know, with time you will start to understand this about abusive people. For now, you just need to know that his abuse is a choice that he makes every time he does it, and every time he doesn’t get help.Domestic violence, is hard to escape for many reasons, but the hardest to overcome is the genuine love you have for them. You have evaluated your love for him time and time again to make sure you are willing to stick around through hell until the love of your life can return and treat you like they did at the beginning. It's true, you do love him, and honestly, you won't ever stop loving him. You sincerely meant and believed your vows. When you said in sickness and health, you meant it, but unfortunately his sickness is actually hurting and killing you. He broke both of your vows when he started hurting you with the verbal, emotional, psychological and physical abuse. You cannot break something that is already broken, and he broke your vows for the both of you.Please know that you did not cause the abuse. There is nothing you could have done to keep him from doing the things he did. There is very little you could have done to have kept from falling in love with an abusive person. Domestic violence does not happen to an individual because of their characteristics, family background, mental health, race, sexual orientation, financial status, or an unconscious search for a certain type of partner. It can happen to anyone who has the misfortune of becoming involved with a person who wants power and control. You did not “let” abuse happen to you, you did not “allow it,” you did not get swept up into the cycle of abuse because of something wrong or lacking in you. You got swept up because that is how powerful the cycle of abuse is. Repeat this to yourself daily, write it on a sticky note, dedicate time, energy and emotion for this truth to sink in. It will help you forgive yourself, and you have to forgive yourself in order to live again.When you first get out, your life is instantly going to expand. Don’t get me wrong, you will grieve, but you will begin to feel the freedom of not living in fear. Enjoy this time, play with family and friends, let yourself dream about what your life in freedom will look like. This moment is called the pink cloud, and unfortunately it is temporary. Fear will creep back in through nightmares and potential stalking and harassing behaviors of your abuser. Enjoy the joy and dream the dreams you make during this time because it will be your fuel to continue healing and further separate from your abuser through the dark times in recovery.Connect with other survivors. You are part of an unfortunate club of badass, strong as hell, resilient, strategic, empowered, survivors. Survivors of abuse have some of the most powerful skill sets. We can manage high stress situations, juggle emotional turmoil, while managing our day to day responsibilities, care for others, and put on a smile while we do it. Through recovery and working with other survivors I have found that the soft skills I learned to survive abuse now are my greatest assets. But we need one another to recover and we need recovery to ensure these skills of ours are used for our health and benefit, and not for our detriment. As another survivor and author, Leslie Morgan Steiner says, “abuse thrives in silence.” When you feel the pangs of abuse creep in, and have thoughts of loneliness, despair, regret, self hate, disappointment, or worthlessness, talk to another survivor. Sitting in those feelings, mulling over them, trying to sort them out on your own, trying to understand what happened to you, what you did wrong, alone, is sitting in silence and continuing the isolation your abuser put you in. The shame of abuse is not yours to carry. Refuse to hold shame for something, someone else chose to do to you. To recover we have to step out of that silence and shame, we have to step out of our shell and talk about our experience. Only other survivors of abuse understand where we are, what we are feeling, and can offer solutions to get out of the holes our abusive partners put us in. This is why it is vital to find and connect to other survivors. We have all been there, we get it, and in fact, talking to new survivors helps us in our continued recovery as well. You can connect with other survivors by getting involved with a shelter or non-profit in your area. If by chance you are unable to connect to a local organization, which can be quite hard, you can find communities of survivors on Facebook and Instagram.No matter how hard you tried to not let their words of abuse sink in to how you see or believe yourself to be, more likely than not, they did. That's ok, with time the voices in your head will be yours again. It is not an easy or fast process, but it is possible. You need to practice everyday, identifying their voice and then replacing it with yours. It takes time but it is doable. Working with a therapist and other survivors will help you see when this is happening and help you change it.Recovery is hard. Sometimes it feels harder than it was to live in the abuse. In these moments you may think about going back. Don’t forget, you survived the abuse, you can survive recovery. You are going to miss them and hate that you miss someone that hurt you like they did. You will have nightmares, flashbacks, and sometimes feel paralyzed in fear. You will have a hard time focusing at work because you are hyper vigilant, a side effect of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Your other relationships may be difficult because of behaviors you learned in the abuse. Even if you don’t understand it, or think you need it, find a therapist that understands domestic violence and talk to other survivors. Talking to someone with a shared experience gets us out of the dark parts of recovery and empowers us to keep moving forward. Recovery is one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, and relearning how to meet our individual needs one need at a time. Reach out and ask for help when you don’t think you will make it through a day. We have all been there. Again, you survived the abuse, you can survive the recovery.Give yourself grace...As survivors of domestic abuse, giving ourselves grace is 100% necessary and unbelievably hard to do. I believe learning self grace is difficult for most people, but the difference for survivors of abuse is that doing it, giving ourselves grace, can literally feel unsafe in our minds and bodies. We have been conditioned to believe that giving ourselves a pass, or grace, is putting our guard down. We have learned that if we take responsibility, assume blame and make our self disappointment known, we can sometimes reduce or curb moments of violence with our abuser. Once we are free from abuse, victim blaming culture tells us we should be disappointed in ourselves for getting into and allowing abuse in our relationship. Looking back on my journey I see that there are two roads of recovery that run parallel to one another. One road is bereavement and it is lined with never ending regret, self hatred, and living in our trauma. The other road is self grace and lined with self forgiveness, love, appreciation and understanding our trauma. Unlike most parts of recovery, we have complete control over which road we take. Here is the deal, to step from bereavement to grace, we have to understand and accept that while living in abuse, we were doing the best we could with the information we had at the time of assault. The information we lacked or lack is that we were in the cycle of abuse, and that there is no fixing or stopping abusive behavior, there is only leaving and separating from it. Again, domestic violence does not happen to an individual because of their characteristics, family background, mental health, race, sexual orientation, financial status, or an unconscious search for a certain type of partner. It can happen to anyone who has the misfortune of becoming involved with a person who wants power and control.It takes work, but things do get better, that I promise you.Check out more blog posts at jenncoffin.com
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In These Arms | Chapter 6 :Ba Sing Se
Summary:
You and Korra always had a bit of a love/hate relationship but it comes with the budding friendship. When it comes down to it you will help fight alongside her and even protect her with your life if it comes down to it. Your life….are you really willing to lay down your life for the Avatar?
“You’re amazing….you know that? No one asked you to, but you made it your personal mission to protect Korra.” you speak in barely a whisper before you lean over and softly plant a kiss on her forehead.
Notes:
So I changed some things around in the Ba Sing Se episode so the Reader could fit into the story.
You had packed your clothes and other stuff in a duffle bag quickly when you left Lin’s - not taking a chance to change.
“Oh Miss y/n, I presume the dinner was successful?”
You look up at Butler while you stuff the contents in the bag as you move some hair out of your face “Sorry to wake you Butler, yes, very much so. Thanks again for your help, but something came up at work. Not sure how long I’ll be gone”. You zip your bags up
“Understood miss y/n” as he opens the doors for you as you head out.
You pack your bags onto the cycle and speed off waving at Butler as you head out of the estate grounds.
Meeting up with Lin on the roof of police headquarters you step into the airship, setting your bags aside on a bench. Lin is looking around with another officer making sure the airship is ready, “Captain” she acknowledges your presence and you return the gesture “Woah Cap, had a nice night?” Officer Song asked you
“What?” you look at Song confused as you run your hand through your hair.
“Your clothes, Cap” he points his pen at the outfit you still have from last night.
“Oh, yeah…was just out enjoying the city” you give him a weak smile -
“Enough chit chat is the airship ready Song?” Lin looks at Song with her hand on her hip. You take the opportunity to grab your duffel bag and duck into a nearby bathroom to change into your combat clothes. Bending on your brace and sleeves on before stepping out and heading to the control center of the ship. The ship takes off and you’re soon flying to Ba Sing Se “How about I take the reins so you can gather information on Korra and Tenzin” you reach for the controls while Lin nods and walks over to see if she can radio the Ba Sing Se embassy.
“This is what I feared would happen….not only is Korra in trouble so is Tenzin and the whole group - they’re out there unsure of what’s happened. Outside of my control and protection” she mutters angrily as she looks down at the map looking for the fastest way possible to the city. “You should have gone on that trip with them. Someone with your knowledge of the area, it could have helped with their search. Now I have to leave Republic City to the hands of Saikhan and we both know how that turned out the last time I was…. indisposed.” Lin snarls, infuriated with herself for having to leave her city because of Raiko’s stupid banishment on Korra while she looked at the copy of the travel itinerary Tenzin had sent before their trip. You try not to feel guilty for having pushed her on going on that date. Is it possible that Lin regrets the date last night? You look down at the controls and gather your thoughts before inhaling deeply, “You’re right… I….should have gone as added protection. I-- Ba Sing Se isn’t particularly a place I’m fond of, but that is no excuse. I’m sorry, Chief”
You look over and see a look of stress creeping up on Lin’s face, switch your captain hat off and switch to being Lin’s support system. You set the ship on autopilot to continue on course then walk over beside her, “Lin, we’ll get Korra back to safety. She has Tenzin and her team with her,” speaking calmly to her as you wrap her in your arms. “I need her back in the city where I can protect and keep her safe” she sighs and rubs her eyes to fight off sleep. You smile a bit, this isn’t the time or the moment but Lin sounds like a worried mother and it warms your heart to see this type of concern come from her.“You will get her back, Lin” you whisper as you kiss her forehead “You should rest, you’ll be better off if you take a nap. I’ll wake you once we’re close”
“I’m fine”
“You barely had any time to sleep. Don’t fight it. Please, darling”
“Fine but wake me up as soon as Ba Sing Se is on the horizon.” Lin begrudgingly walks out of your arms and heads to the upper deck.
After a couple of hours you’re leaning against the dashboard watching the sun slowly start to creep up on the horizon. One of the beauties the world gives us is the ability to experience moments like these. Here you go again, jumping straight into the midst of battle - and this time it’s a direct attack against Korra. Seems like you’re always having to put your job on the line, and it always goes back to Korra. You scoff, fighting a smile as you look back out the window as the blend of oranges and yellows starts to cover the once dark landscape, your eyes squinting once it gets brighter. You stifle a yawn but shake it off, you’re not entirely sure what kind of danger Korra could be in, but you’re about to dock into Ba Sing Se for no reason other than to get Korra and the team. You and Korra always had a bit of a love/hate relationship but it comes with the budding friendship. When it comes down to it you will help fight alongside her and even protect her with your life if it comes down to it. Your life….are you really willing to lay down your life for the Avatar? You look up to where Lin would be currently asleep before looking out the window. Lin would do it no questions asked, you’ve always been about helping those who need it - putting yourself in harm’s way. This time you’ve been more cautious, not wanting to get hurt because you have someone to come back to. Even though it’s all new with Lin, you feel like she is where you’re meant to be. You don’t want to ruin it or cause her any harm, and you know that if it had to come down to it you would get the brunt of the hit to save Lin, so be it. The world needs help now especially with the way Lin looked when you woke up. It seemed to be a serious threat and you can’t let Lin handle it all by herself.
You see the neighboring villages that surround Ba Sing Se start to appear so you head up to the upper deck to check on Lin. She’s sleeping on one of the cots and you approach her quietly as you decide to take a moment to see peaceful Lin before you wake her. Kneeling down beside her you take her in, softly brushing some hair out of her face, careful not to wake her yet, “You’re amazing….you know that? No one asked, but you made it your personal mission to protect Korra.” you speak in barely a whisper before you lean over and softly plant a kiss on her forehead, “We’re approaching the city”. Lin slowly sits up and stretches “That was fast” causing a laugh from you “You were asleep. Of course it would seem fast,” you stand up and walk over to the windows looking out over the city and see that the ship is flying over the outer ring, “I’ll radio ahead to prep for landing” you mutter as you get back to the controls and radio the inner ring to get directions on landing. Once the ship is secured, you and Lin head down and make your way over to the guest house Team Avatar is staying in.
You step up and knock on the door and hear the sound of muffled noises and shuffling. You look at Lin cocking an eyebrow before Tenzin opens the door “y/n?! wha- Hi” he greets you warmly “Can we come in?” you look at him “We?” he looks at you confused until you point beside you and he notices Lin standing there appearing from behind the other door. Lin walks into the house and you follow suit “Lin? What are you two doing here?” he closes the door. “We need to get Korra out of here immediately. Her life’s in danger.” She stops and turns to face Tenzin as she crosses her arms. “What? What’s going on” Korra asks as she walks towards them, standing in the middle while Lin and Tenzin stare at each other. Lin ignores Korra and keeps addressing Tenzin “I just got word from Lord Zuko and Tonraq”
“Why is Lord Zuko with my Dad?” Korra looks at you “Can you hear me? Tell me what’s going on” you nod then shrug as you take in the interaction between Lin and Tenzin, “All I know is that you’re in danger so here I am”.
Lin still ignoring Korra and continues talking to Tenzin “Zaheer and the others have escaped”
This news seems to surprise Tenzin “How is that possible?”
“Because Zaheer is an airbender now” she reveals, Tenzin’s facial expression is one of complete shock,
“No…”
“Alright” Korra thrusts both hands out in irritation “Hold on” she turns to Lin “Will you quit ignoring me and tell me what’s going on?” She raises both arms in confusion “Who’s Zaheer? Looking between Lin and Tenzin “And why is my life in danger?”
Lin and Tenzin glance at each other silently as Korra looks at Tenzin and he relents “Shortly after we found out you were the Avatar, Zaheer and three others attempted to kidnap you. Luckily, your father, Lord Zuko, Chief Sokka, and I were there to stop them. We apprehended the criminals and locked them away in prisons designed to impair their abilities.” Korra looks down in disbelief as she hears this news then it seems like she came up with an answer on her own “So that’s why you and my Dad sheltered me away in the south pole for so long.”
Everyone in the room listened to the news silently “It was for your own safety” Tenzin responded. Mako stepped forward and started talking, gaining the attention of Korra, Lin, and Tenzin as they turned towards him “Why were they trying to kidnap Korra?”
“We spent thirteen years interrogating them, but they never broke. To this day, no one knows what their motive was.” She rests her arm on her hip as you take a step forward, “How is it for 13 years no one could come up with a theory that Zaheer wanted to kidnap Korra to either A. Raise her to be an evil Avatar or B. Find a way to kill Korra without her being reincarnated into the next life”. You questioned Lin as she turned to you “We developed theories but none of them were ever proven because Zaheer and the others never talked.”
Lin turns back to Korra and takes a step towards Korra “Now we need to get you back to Republic City where I can protect you.”
Korra shakes her head “No” Tenzin turns to face Korra “I’m not running”
Lin closes her eyes to try to calm herself down and not start a screaming match “Korra, you don’t understand.” She opens her eyes to look at the Avatar “These criminals are like nothing you’ve ever faced before.” She’s trying to reason with the young Avatar and you’re unsure if you should step in, but you end up speaking calmly to Korra “If Zaheer is as great a threat as Lin says. It would be best for you to come back to the city. Lin and the force can help protect you.”
A look appears on Korra’s face, one of irritation on how the adults are talking to her “Look, I’m not a little kid anymore. You guys don’t need to protect me. I came here for one thing, to find airbenders, and I’m not leaving without them.”
You and Tenzin glance at Lin who seems to be trying to fight the urge to yell “Fine. Let’s get them and get out of here. Where are they?”
“We’re not entirely sure...” You watch her expression change to anger.
“Um…what?” you put a finger up questioning anyone to give you the rundown.
“The Earth Queen is conscripting airbenders to fight for her, but we don’t know where they’re being held.” Tenzin answers and you nod understanding “Ah, I don’t like it, but the Earth Queen technically has a right to conscript her citizens” you cross your arms “That’s what I said!” Bumi exclaimed as someone agreed with him. The rest of the gang give you and Bumi dirty looks “What? it’s not my law! Just another reason why I don’t like Ba Sing Se” you mutter as you fold your arms, looking away.
“Alright enough. What’s the plan” Lin waves her arm to stop the conversation and turns to Korra and Tenzin. Korra walks to the table “Well we’ve been looking - Jinora read books about the city. Hey y/n, maybe you can help!” she looks up from the map at you.
“Yeah, sure if there’s anything I can do. Count me in” you lower your arms and approach the table. “Jinora mentioned secret places, do you have any ideas of where the Earth Queen could have the airbenders?” Korra glances at you as you look at the map putting your palms down on the table as you search and point at Lake Laogai “There was a secret Dai Li facility under Lake Laogai. To my knowledge it hasn’t been used for years but maybe it’s been restored to be used for housing the airbenders. That’s the only place I would think makes sense on where to hide them.” Korra, Tenzin, and Jinora nod at your insight “Jinora said the same thing, so we’ll start there.” You nod then move your finger up a bit “There’s a small piece of land in the middle of the water that you can reach, right about here” you find the location and point to it.
“We can use Oogi to get there” Tenzin comments
"Lin and I will watch over the rest of the group" you say and he thanks you before the three head out on Oogi.
“What about the rest of us?” Bolin asks as Pabu crawls out of his shirt “Oh sorry Pabu…forgot you were in there” Pabu chirps angrily.
“Nothing much to do until we get more intel on the airbenders” you shrug as you stifle a yawn,
“Are there any other places they could be?” Asami looks at you and you rest your head on your hand as you put your elbow on the table. “For what the Earth Queen needs, no…the rest of the “secret” places are just underground tunnels or catacombs.” You lean back in your chair “Unless the Queen built some new military compound in recent years, there isn’t a facility big enough other than the one in Lake Laogai” you fold your arms then stand up .
“We just have to wait until Korra, Tenzin, and Jinora come back,” Mako says and you nod putting your hand over your mouth as you fight off a yawn.
“Didn’t sleep much?” Asami whispered and you jerked your head to her and nodded “Had a couple of hours before we got the call from Lord Zuko.” You rub the back of your neck.
“Go take a nap, I'll wake you when they come back” Asami rests her hand on your shoulder and you shake your head “It’s fine, I’ll just drink some black tea” you rub your eyes “You’re no use to us tired and off your game. Go sleep” she squeezes your shoulder and shakes you a bit and you groan “Fine”. Asami walks you over to an unused bedroom and you thank Asami before dozing off on the bed.
*
“y/n… wake up. They’re back” Asami shakes you awake as you sit up and rub your eyes “Did they find them?” you mumble as you get out of bed and put on your boots “The Lake was completely deserted, but Jinora found them.”
“Where?”
“The Earth Queen’s temple..”
“What?!” you stand up shocked when Asami pulls you out the bedroom and you follow her back towards the foyer, “I can't believe Miss Queenie Smugface had them right under our noses the whole time!” you hear Korra say as you meet the rest of the group.
“We have to get into that compound tonight and get those airbenders out.” Tenzin steps forward in the group as you and Asami step closer.
“Alright, we go in under the cover of darkness. Two small insertion teams and a third on the outside. Then all we'll need is twelve tons of blasting jelly, a medium sized bulldozer, and does anyone have a badgermole that knows morse code?” you all look at Bumi with skeptical expressions and Tenzin sighs, annoyed at his brother. You slowly talk “Okay… so two small insertion teams and a third on the outside. Good plan Bumi”, you put a hand on his shoulder and give him a smile “Asami, Lin, and I will fly the airships while the rest of you go inside and rescue the airbenders” you look at everyone, giving more clarity on Bumi’s plan and everyone nods “Nightfall” Korra ends the conversation as she stands up straight putting on a determined face.
*
You hand Bumi one of the radio communication devices and he tests it out - speaking into the receiver “Top Side, this is Papa Bear. Do you read me?” you hear an annoyed sigh coming from the other side, causing a laugh from you and Bumi as you hear Lin confirm the test “Yes”.
“Okay, good. You can radio us in case anything happens.” You look at Bumi “Well, see you on the other side, soldier”
“See you at the other side, commander” you playfully salute Bumi and watch the group start their stealth mission as you head back sending Asami a thumbs up before stepping inside Lin’s airship. “They’re off. We should hear something soon,” you step beside Lin as she rolls her eyes “Top Side? Papa Bear?” you laugh and shake your head “Not my idea”.
“The Earth Queen is never going to want to work with the Avatar after this…” Lin comments as she groans looking out the window as you slide your hand in your pocket “She shouldn’t be ruling the country at all, these types of things should never happen.” You remark as you look out and see the lights of the city you once called home. “How long has it been since you’ve been back?” Lin asks and you sigh closing your eyes as you try to remember “Just before settling down in Zaofu” you open your eyes “Had to visit my uncle, let him know I was safe and planned to move to Zaofu and start a new life.”
“How did he take the news?”
“He was supportive. We still exchange letters and phone calls, not as much as before, but I update him on how I am.” You sigh as you hear static coming from the radio followed by some whispering “Top Side, this is Papa Bear. The Breezies are in the hole, cue the Balloons!” Bumi’s voice is heard and you let out a laugh and nod “Got it. I’ll start the ship..” while Lin grabs the receiver confused “What? Are you in trouble?”
“No, we got the airbenders and we're headed out. Bring the airships! No one likes code names anymore.” Bumi sounds exasperated as you walk up to Lin “Copy that. Asami, y’n, and I are on our way.” Lin radios and you take the receiver from her grasp adding
“Papa Bear, this is Top Side. Balloons are floating your way, be at the ready, over and out” you hang up the receiver as Lin gives you an incredulous look before giving Asami the signal.
“You understood that mumbo jumbo?” Lin looks at you as she watches you start the ship up “You didn’t? I thought it was pretty obvious” you smirk while looking over at Asami as both ships start to take off and head to the rendezvous point. You and Lin hear a growl coming close to the airship “It’s just Oogi” Lin peers out the window and the sky bisoni comes into view between the two airships.
On approaching the Earth Queen’s temple you give Lin the control to the ship “Take control, I’ll help them in” you run out of the cockpit before Lin can refuse. Opening the door of the hangar bay you grab a cable to clip on your belt to prevent you from flying out. You bend your cables down and let the airbenders to start climbing to safety, Bumi is the first up “Good to see you, Soldier” he smiles and you give him a nod “Commander” two by two the airbenders start safely boarding in the airship, Bumi helps pulling them up until everyone is accounted for and you radio Lin “Everyone's in! Let's go.”
You press the hangar door closed as Lin motions the airship to go forward.
“Welcome everyone, you’re safe now. Feel free to sit and rest while we get out of danger.” You nod to Bumi as the both of you head up to the upper deck to meet Lin. Heading over the map on the table. “What’s the plan, where are we heading to now?” Bumi asks as Lin joins once the controls are set “To Republic City. We got Korra and the airbenders…”
“Lin, we can’t just take these benders to the city. It’ll basically be airnapping” you smirk as you keep your eyes on the map. Bumi snorts as he butts in
“Yeah, Linny, we can't conconscript these benders. We need to find a secure place to land. Have the airbenders choose where to go from there.”
Lin folds her arms “You know not to call me that.” then groans “Fine, where do you suggest we land then?” she walks over to you to the map.
You search all over the map and find the location and point to it. This seems safe and far enough from the Dai Li “If I remember correctly, there is a barren city off by these cliffs here. We can land there and have Tenzin and Korra talk to the new recruits.”
“I’ll radio Asami and change the course”, Lin looks at you before heading back to the control center and radios Asami to let her know of the new plan.
“Nice job, Captain” Bumi nudges you and smiles “Thought she was going to rip your head off with that Linny comment, Commander” you smile and laugh. Bumi grins back at you mirthfully "You should try calling her that. It's fun"
"oh no, I like to keep my head intact thank you very much" you grin back both of you snort in a laugh as you fold your arms. "what are you two idiots laughing about?" Lin barks and you cover your mouth trying to stop "Nothing" you try to sound convincing "Yeah, nothing" Bumi comes to your defensive and you give each other a nudge as Lin rolls her eyes and diverts the ship to the safe location you pointed out.
*
Once both airships are landed and parked, Bumi helps the airbenders off the ship and joins the rest of Team Avatar in Asami’s ship. You stay inside and walk up in the higher deck and look at Lin, who looks tense and stressed out. Looking around and sensing no one is around you walk up behind her, slowly putting your arms around her. Lin seems to calm at your embrace and you softly talk to her “You’re getting too stressed, I understand Korra’s safety is your top concern but getting worked up… it’s not beneficial to your body or your mental health” you kiss her neck softly “Korra doesn’t understand how dangerous Zaheer is” she mutters.
“That might be the case, but you’re here now to protect her…. Korra’s is right though, she’s not a kid anymore.” Lin balls her fists as she closes her eyes to calm herself as you continue -
“Plus, she’s not alone. She has you, Tenzin, me, her team. We’re not going to let anyone hurt her.” You finish and Lin opens her eyes and looks out the window to watch Tenzin talking to the airbenders. You join watching the scene unfold down below and notice the airbenders start to rise.
“You think Tenzin and Korra got some recruits?” you ask, watching them stand one by one.
“I think fighting the queen was motivation enough to rise and fight, but they don’t know what’s in store…good luck to them” Lin states out plainly.
“Tenzin or the airbenders?” you peer out and notice as Tenzin start walking towards the airship,
“Both” Lin answers and you look at her and share a light laugh.
“He’s coming this way” you remove your arms from Lin and step away, moving to another part of the ship as Tenzin steps in and shares the news and new plan. “Great news, all the benders want to join!”
“That’s--” you smile
“Great so we’re headed back to the city. Let’s go” Lin starts walking to start up the ship,
“Actually….” Tenzin drags out receiving a glare from Lin
“Korra wants to keep looking for more airbenders and I have to agree. I wanted to ask if you two would accompany Korra on the search while Bumi and I take the airbenders to the Northern Air Temple.” He looks at Lin with pleading eyes as Lin looks over at you. You scratch your cheek “President Raiko did banish Korra from the city… and you can keep eyes on Korra this way” you step towards the two of them as Lin lets out an annoyed sigh.
“Fine. Her safety is in my hands”
“Thank you Lin…y/n”
Tenzin and Bumi go in Asami’s airship and take the newly recruited airbenders to the Northern Air Temple while Lin and you take Team Avatar to continue looking for more airbenders. Once everything gets situated both airships take off, flying in separate directions until either is no longer in view. A new adventure awaits.
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more of these teacher au blurbs. again, all based on true things but i had no one to commiserate with :(
these are also from 2016 and revamped
Teacher AU
Training
Edward turned over in bed as the alarm went off and groaned. It was pitch dark outside and he hated it. There needed to be a rule against getting up before the sun. He terribly missed those days when he could get up after the sun and not leave in the dark and come back in the dark. And to make matters worse, he had to get up even earlier today.
He had signed up for a one-day training that was given a little ways from home and thus, had to get up a good hour earlier if he wanted to make it there on time. The cherry on top of his proverbial sundae of misery was that beside him, Étienne was fast asleep, cocooned in blankets, snoring lightly, blissfully unaware of Edward’s woes.
He wouldn’t mind sleeping for another extra hour, thank you very much.
After five minutes of feeling sorry for himself and cursing whatever brain wave had made him sign up for this training, he finally extracted himself from bed and went through his morning routine; quick shower, coffee, breakfast, teeth brushing and then dressing. It was still dark by the time he left and Étienne was still tucked in, cozy, under the blankets, this time on his side of the bed.
He envied the man.
He had signed up for this training since he was teaching a class on a subject he didn’t know very well. He felt anxious half the time and despite his better efforts, he still felt inadequate teaching. Therefore, he hoped the training would guide him in his planning and offer him insight and a chance to exchange with other teachers. Or, something. If anything, it was a break in the week, but he was already starting to regret it.
By the time he got there, after getting lost and walking around the block for twenty-five minutes looking for the place, he sat down in the empty conference room and took a moment to breathe. It was a good thing he had left early, all things considered, and he was glad Étienne had insisted he take the car. At least the parking was free.
He fished out his cell phone from his bag and saw he had one un-read text message from Étienne. He opened it up and couldn’t help but crack a small smile at what he read.
“Enjoy your day sans little monsters.” The message read.
“You got to sleep in.”
“And you’re not teaching today.” Étienne politely reminded him.
“Touché. See you tonight?”
“Only if you make dinner. I have my murder day. But your note made it better <3”
“Glad I could help. I’ll make supper, don’t worry. Plus, I finish before you do. Good luck with classes. Don’t actually murder anyone.”
“Funny, Murphy. Go learn something. Love you <3 <3 <3”
Edward closed his phone, grinning to himself, just as the other people walked in. He hoped the training would be worthwhile.
Cultural Outing
Étienne had always liked outings as a student. No matter where they went, he saw it as an opportunity to see something new and at the same time, he was away from school for a day – it was win-win. It was a change of pace, a chance to get out and even if it had been boring, it had been different.
Therefore, when he started teaching, he wanted to organise some outings for his own students. He wanted to broaden their minds, bond over an activity and do something a little bit different with them. Therefore, because he was the art teacher, he figured it was his right and duty to find the perfect outing for his students that would ignite the passion for the arts in their minds, bodies, and souls. Or so he hoped.
Étienne poured over every museum and theatre resource. He called in some of his contacts, furiously searched the Internet and he was a giddy mess when he found out there was a local theatre production that was putting on a play that some of his students were reading in French. This was perfect, since it was cross-curricular and he would be heralded as a genius!
It was then that he realised how complicated organising a school trip could be. First, it had to be approved by his colleagues. Then, the school had to approve of it and see if it could fit in the budget. They also had to see what it was the other teachers wanted to do. And that was after he had researched the company, had contacted them and had found all the pertinent information he needed. Then there were the permission slips he had to make, the passing and collecting of said permission slips and finally, the logistic of the day itself. At least, he didn’t have to deal with finding transportation – administration took care of that.
All this for one afternoon at the theatre.
He just hoped his students would behave.
Récup
According to his contract, Étienne had to provide two periods of recuperation, per cycle, for his students, during lunch. He didn’t mind. He started with two, but as the semester progressed, he always added more. If his students needed help and they were willing to put in the time, he was always willing to open up the art room for an extra recuperation during lunchtime.
That was why, on day three, during lunch, on a glorious day he could have spent outside, sitting under his favourite shaded tree, lying on Edward’s lap, he was in his classroom, waiting for students, while he ate his lunch alone.
The problem with recuperation periods was that he never knew if he would have students or not. Sometimes he did. When projects were due, the room was full. But today seemed like he had no students and it angered him. It was a waste of his time and of a perfect lunch period. He could have spent it outside, now that winter had ended and spring had arrived.
The worst was that some of his students had asked him if he would be holding this recuperation period and could they come. He had said yes, obviously, and now they weren’t there. He felt betrayed.
He could just imagine their little confused, stressed faces later on during class, when they would rush to finish their project. Too bad, he thought, it was up to them to show up.
Irritated, he pushed away from his desk and took out his phone. He texted Edward to see if he wanted to have lunch in his classroom; maybe that would make it a little better.
After School Activities
As a kid, Edward had always played sports. He had been on a house hockey and soccer teams from the age of four and he had been decent at them both. He’d stopped playing on teams after the age of sixteen, but he’d enjoyed the time he’d spent playing and had fond memories of his teams.
This year, the school had opened up a few sports teams as extra-curricular after school activities and Edward had mentioned in passing that he’d once coached soccer as a summer job, many, many years ago. The information hadn’t fallen on deaf ears and when the gym teacher couldn’t take on one of the teams, the principal had asked Edward if he wanted to do it.
Edward had said yes, because he had been taught to say yes when it came to these things, but he figured they’d find someone more qualified for the gig, if anything. However, the principal never found anyone else and so, once a week, Edward had to coach a group of eleven to twelve year olds who formed the school’s soccer team.
He hadn’t done this in ages and the rules for indoor soccer were drastically different from outdoors.
And, as if he didn’t do enough, now he had to take care of this as well. It was as if he liked being overworked and tired all the time.
Still, the kids seemed to appreciate him, even if he wasn’t sure what he was doing half the time.
He could only hope that he wasn’t about to let them down.
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Pulling Rank
Series Summary: After the events of Civil War, Steve and his team are stuck in their compound. Following a mission, you disagree with your stalwart leader but he does not take kindly to your defiance.
Sequel to Insubordination
Chapter Description: Stuck in the compound, the reader can’t get away from the captain.
Warnings: dub/non-con and explicit sex (including oral) Obviously 18+ (like this whole blog)
Note: I decided to do a sequel (at least) to this fic. Hopefully you all enjoy some more dark Steve although lately it seems he’s taking over the blog. I’m still working on raffle winners but they will be up over the next few weeks and hopefully offer more variety.
Anyways, thanks for reading. Feel free to send an ask, reblog, or reply you reaction :)
Waking up the next day was difficult. Every muscle in your body was both tight and weak. You felt as if you had been run over. You were in the same position Steve had left you in; sprawled sideways across the bed, the remnants of his dry cum on the duvet and your skin. You shook as you sat up, bruises darkened along your hip bones where he had held you down. You glanced over at the vibe carelessly laying on the dresser and your stomach flipped. It had definitely been real.
You rose, wobbling on your legs before you caught yourself on the dresser. You grabbed the toy and lumbered into the bathroom, dropping it into the bin. You doubted you’d have any urges after last night. You’d be content enough to be left alone. If Steve wanted to chase you out, he was doing a good job. You sat on the toilet, your back aching as you hung your head. You should go back to Stark Tower and beg mercy; swallow your pride and sign the Accords. No, it was too late for that. You had chosen your dog in this fight but you hadn’t realized it was vicious.
It took about ten minutes to find your strength again. You managed to turn on the shower and step inside, hoping to sear away Steve’s touch. He lingered on you even after you stepped out of the steaming bathroom. In this place, there was no escaping him. You felt worse as memories of the night before had your skin burning. It was everything you had been yearning for and more; you just hadn’t expected it to happen like that.
You stripped the bed and tossed the blankets in a pile. You’d worry about the laundry later. You were restless. You kept pacing, unable to sit still for more than minute. What if he came back? A fucking lock wouldn’t hold off a super soldier. You should go. Just leave. He didn’t want you on missions anymore and it seemed he didn’t want you in the compound either. You could ask Clint for help. He was laying low, having gone along with everything for the sake of his family, but he’d give you place to hide out. No one else needed to know.
No, that was selfish. Risky. You couldn’t endanger his family for your own missteps.
A knock came and you froze. You stared at the door, shaking as your visitor rapped again. The handle slowly turned and you waited with dread. As the door opened you gasped and sighed in relief. It was only Nat. You shook your head at yourself.
“Hey, what’s going on?” She let the door go, “I thought we were going to work out this morning. Why didn’t you answer your door?”
“Uh, sorry, I’m tired,” You lied, “I...was just stressing all night about…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes searched for anything but visions of Steve. “My suspension. I don’t know, um, don’t know if I, uh, should stay any longer.”
“Y/N, it was one day. A stupid argument. You can’t go.” She scoffed, “Don’t leave me here alone with these idiots. I mean, Wanda’s never here and I don’t wanna be the only one left with brains above the waist.”
You tilted your head and chewed your lip. You couldn’t tell her, she wouldn’t believe you. You didn’t want to tell her. Or anyone. You wanted to forget. If you kept in line, listened, Steve would leave you alone. You hoped. “Fine,” You relented, “Not like I have anywhere to go. Let’s just…” You paused as you turned to the dresser, your hand hovering in front of the knob. He had stood right here; he’d been waiting. “...Go work out.”
“You could use it. Get some of that tension out,” Nat chided, “Jesus, Y/N, you’re gonna start driving me crazy along with yourself.”
“The guys, they usually work out at night, don’t they?” You grabbed some workout gear and headed into the washroom, leaving the door slightly open so Nat could hear you.
“Don’t worry about Steve. If anything, he’ll just give you the silent treatment. He’s stubborn but he’ll get over it.” She said, “You know, you were right. He was being a dick.”
“Uh, yeah,” You pulled on your shorts and the loose tee. You re-entered the bedroom and sat to put on socks and your sneakers. “I just, I don’t need another argument, is all. I just want to work out and forget about everything.”
“Oh yeah, even the laundry?” She kicked the pile of sheets.
“It’s my day for the wash,” You lied, Sam wouldn’t mind you snagging the machines. He rarely used them anyhow. “Trying to get a head start.”
“Well, let’s go.” She clapped her hands, “I really do get fed up waiting on you all the time.”
“You could’ve gone without me,” You grabbed your water bottle; you could fill it from the fountain in the gym. “You’ve done it before.”
“You’re a drag when you’re hungover,” She chuckled and led you into the hallway. “Well, more so than usual.”
You and Nat continued to kid until you came in sight the glass wall of the gym. It was like an actual facility; machines, weights, mats, everything you needed. You laughed as you turned the corner, almost forgetting what had you so on edge. Until you glanced over at the gym. You stopped short and Nat nearly tripped in her surprise.
“What is it?” She asked.
“I…” You stared through the transparent wall. Steve had his back to you as he squatted a good two hundred pounds and Sam jogged on the treadmill across from him. “What are they doing here so early?”
“Oh,” She turned, noticing the unexpected patrons, “It’s fine. I’m sure we can all share peaceably.”
“No,” You backed away, “No, I think I’d rather do my laundry.”
“Fuck, Y/N, it’ll be fine.” She hissed.
“You can work out without me, I’ll just go later tonight,” You tried to get away before Steve could turn and see you. “Really, I just...I can’t deal with him right now, okay?”
She sighed and crossed her arms. “Fine. Have fun with your dirty sheets.” She spun on her heel and marched away. You shook your head as you watched Steve’s back muscles move through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your lip trembled as you recalled his strength, how easily he had held you down, the deep plunge of his cock inside of you. You turned and hurried in the other direction, your head spinning.
Fresh sheets on the bed, a sandwich smuggled back to your room for supper, a day spent successfully evading Steve. Another hour and you would chance the gym. Midnight workouts weren’t very popular. You spent the time watching Youtube on your phone, your leg shaking eagerly. You hated missing a workout; especially as it was essential to your livelihood. Although, you weren’t going on missions anytime soon.
You checked your watch; quarter after. You slipped into your sneakers and grabbed your water bottle again, this time determined to get your sweat on. You were relieved to find the gym empty and you started your stretches just in front of the bike. You liked to cycle; your speed your greatest asset. As you touched your toes, you heard the subtle whisper of the gym door. You looked between your legs and nearly fell on your head. Steve stopped just inside, crossing his arms as he stared at your ass.
“I was wondering where you were this morning,” He watched as you stood straight, turning to him in surprise. “Nat said you weren’t feeling up to it today.” He neared, “Wonder why?”
“What do you want?” You walked backwards, colliding painfully with the treadmill.
“What was that? I didn’t hear a sir or Captain in there.” He tilted his head as he spoke, “I thought we went over this last night.” You were trembling, reaching back to grip the machine as you fought to stay standing. “It’s gonna be a long suspension if you keep on like this.”
You felt behind you, edging away from the treadmill, past the bike and around the weights. There was a rack between you and him. He followed steadily; enough that he kept up. When you were closest to the door, you turned and darted, pulling it open as your panic turned your vision hazy. You could hear him behind you as you ran down the halls. You knew he was faster than you but you didn’t care. You needed to get away. You turned the next corner and he caught you by the back of your shirt, the fabric tearing down the middle. The force of it caused you to trip and you barely got your arms up to save your head.
Out of breath, you tried to get your knees under you but a kick to your rear kept you down. Steve slid his foot under your side and flipped you over as you panted. He brought a foot to the other side of you and knelt down to look at you closer. He smirked. “You didn’t think our little lessons were done.” He taunted, “You still have much to learn.”
“No, please, you don’t have to do this,” You attempts to push him off were futile and he caught your wrists and backed up and pulling you to your feet. You struggled with him but it was hopeless. “I’ll scream.” You threatened.
“Go ahead. Who do you think would believe you? Even if they stumbled on this little scene, what are they going to do?” He chortled, “I mean really, what have you done about it? What can you do?”
“Why?” You breathed desperately.
“Because I can,” He said, “Because I can’t be leashed anymore. Those days are over and I’m in charge now.”
“You made your fucking point,” You hissed, his grip was painful on your wrists.
“I know,” He look down at you triumphantly, “It’s not about that anymore.” He spun you around, releasing you and holding you to the wall by your neck. He leaned down, his voice low as he spoke in your ear. “You know, there is a side effect of the serum not many know about. Torturous, really. It’s this unending desire. This deep want that just can’t be sated. You get one taste and you wanted more. A hunger that only grows the more you feed it.” He exhaled, his breath singing your cheek, “I’ve ignored it for too long.”
“Steve, please,” Your eyes were wet, “Please, I know this isn’t you. I’m just...that girl you met in New York. You trained me, taught me everything I know.”
“I didn’t train you well enough,” He snarled as he bent closer, his lips brushing your neck before his teeth sunk in. You yelped as he bit you and his hand moved over your mouth as he sucked at your flesh. He pulled away with a pop, standing straight to admire his mark. He brought his other hand up and ran his thumb over the tender spot. “I’ve decided on two months suspension. I figure it’s enough time for you to go over the basics.”
“What’s changed in you, Steve Rogers?” You sputtered.
“Nothing. I was always an animal,” His fingers framed your face; an unspoken threat. He could crush your head in a single move. “I’ve just been uncaged.”
You croaked. There were no words left to you. Your voice was caught in your chest, your whole body trembling at you stared up at this monster before you.
“I always thought of fucking you, but I was too cheesy about it. I thought of dates and flowers.” He scoffed to himself. “ What a joke.”
You squirmed but it made no difference on his hold on you. He smiled at your pathetic struggles and he reached down to yank on the front of your top, the torn fabric slipping down your arms. You caught it but it was useless now. A rag. “I will give you one choice; should I fuck you here or drag you back to mine?”
You blinked, your chin shaking as you held back the lump rising in your throat. “Not here,” You said quietly, “Please...Captain.”
“Ah ha,” He sounded impressed with your use of his rank. “Good girl. Come on then. I can’t wait any longer.”
He turned you, keeping you ahead of him as he marched you down the hallways, your arms holding the remnants of your shirt against your chest. His room was just around the corner from yours. A fact which now disturbed you. You watched longingly as you passed your own door and he stopped you before his.
“Now,” His long lashes flicked as he looked you up and down. “We’re going to practice your listening skills tonight. See what you really learned. So, you do what I say, you do it well, and you’re halfway to a model soldier. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” You nodded, staring at his door with dread.
“Hmm,” He grumbled, “I think I prefer Captain.”
“Yes, Captain,” You kept your eyes forward, doing your best to still your nerves. Reaching desperately for some semblance of stability. Do as he said and it’d be over soon.
“Open the door,” He said and you quickly reached for the handle, pushing it inward. “Ladies first,” He beckoned you onward and you stepped inside, “Yeah, mmm, you’ve got such a cute little ass.” The door closed behind him. “Stop right there. Bend over.” He groaned in approval and neared you, his hands settling on the thin fabric of your leggings. He jiggled your ass before slapping it as hard as he could. You caught yourself before you could land on your head.
“Stand up,” He backed away, “At attention.” He commanded and you stood straight, your shirt falling to the floor. “This,” He reached out and snapped the strap of your sports bra, “You need to get a nicer uniform, soldier.”
“Yes, Captain,” Your voice was airy; barely your own. It was his now, as your body was.
“Undress, quick,” He circled you, silent as you took of each piece of clothing. The tension was suffocating. “We’ll have to work on that time, soldier.” Your lips curled as he once more addressed you with the patronizing title. “Good form, nonetheless.” He cupped your breast, flicking your nipple with his thumb. “Now, undress me.”
You gritted your teeth through another ‘Yes, Captain’, and moved closer to him. He stood before you patiently, watching you with a smirk was you tugged up the hem of his tee shirt. He lifted his arms, stooping to help you maneuver the cotton over his head. You struggled so much to unbuckle his belt that he laughed. When at last that was done, you slid off his jeans, pausing to remove his shoes and socks awkwardly. You felt as low as dirt.
You glanced up at him as all that was left were his boxer brief. He looked down at himself, his erection about to burst through on its own accord. You pressed your fingertips to the elastic, slowly slipping them under and guiding them down. As the head of his cock popped out, your eyes widened. It somehow looked bigger than last time. Well, you had been half-delirious then. Lower, lower, until they fell to the floor. He stepped out of the underwear, his cock poking your stomach as he came closer. You back up but the flash in his eyes kept you near.
“Now, before we continue, I need you to answer a few questions. Honesty is important in a good soldier,” He walked around you again, his cock bobbing with each step. “How many men have you fucked? Before me, of course.”
You sighed and looked down. Whether the number was high or low, it was embarrassing. You answered and he nodded, stopping before you. “And,” He took your hand and wrapped it around the base of his cock. “Were any as big as me?”
“No, Captain,” You admitted. He was well above average and there were few who could compare.
“Mm-mm-mm,” He preened at your answer, “I could tell. That tight little pussy needs breaking in.” You let go of him and he sneered. You quickly set your hand back on his cock. “But you’re biggest problem is that mouth of yours, so why don’t we work on that?” You swallowed and looked down at his cock, your fingers couldn’t even wrap around it fully. You couldn’t imagine taking all of it.
You kept hold of him and stiffly got to your knees. You looked up at him. He was too tall. “Damn,” He swore, “All is not lost. Bed. Hands and knees.” You let go of him and did as he said, climbing up on his large bed; bigger than your double. You waited at the edge as he followed, standing before you as he wiggled his hips teasingly. “Better.” You stared up at him, hoping he would suddenly change his mind. No, that was stupid. “Suck my cock.”
You cringed, letting out a deep breath. “Yes, Captain,” You bent to press your lips to his tip, flicking your tongue out to wet it. You did your best to spread your saliva up and down his shaft with your lips and tongue. You prayed he didn’t try to go all the way. You’d choke if he tried that. You carefully stretched your mouth around his head and he twitched, a moan floating from him. He leaned into you, pushing further in as you opened your jaw as far as you could. You flinched as his head poked the back of your throat, drool plastered on your lips.
You tried to pull back but he caught the back of your head. He forced himself deeper and you kicked your feet as you struggled to breath. You could barely get enough air through your nose. You were almost at his base, tears at the corner of your eyes as your nails dug into the blankets. He reached his limit and your passage was completely blocked. He stayed there for a moment, watching your face change colour before pulling back. He thrust in again and out; a steady pace as you gasped between intrusions. Your sweat mixed with tears and saliva as he moved his hips faster, fucking your face as his hands held your shoulders.
“That’s it, soldier,” He hummed, “Fuck, I didn’t think you could take it all but look at you.”
You grew dizzier with each plunge into your throat and your body began to sag, hands slipping as you crumpled on the mattress. He removed his cock from your mouth and let you fall, watching you wheeze into the duvet. He sat down beside you, feet still on the floor as he reached over and patted your back. “Catch your breath. That’s it.” He cooed, “Now, get on my cock. You can’t just leave me this way.”
Weakly, you lifted your head and sat up, dragging yourself to the edge of the bed. You climbed down and turned to him as he leaned back with his hands on the mattress behind him. “Soldier.” He warned.
“Yes, Captain,” You quavered, stepping closer. You got up, squatting over his thick thighs as you reached down to steady his wet cock. You were shaking as you used his muscular torso to hold yourself up, his head at your entrance. You let yourself slip onto him, a sigh fluttered from him as you lowered yourself. There was some resistance, some pain, but you pressed on, afraid he would force himself in all at once. Your walls were tight around him, gripping him as he impaled you fully. “Aiii!” You let out the unwanted yipe at the overwhelming fullness.
“I think you know the drill, soldier,” He stayed reclined, watching as you lifted yourself on your knees and brought yourself back down. You shuddered atop him. “You like that cock?” He asked as you continued your motion, fingers clawing at your own thighs. “Answer me, soldier.”
“Yes, Captain,” The reply rose on its own as you drowned in ecstasy. He was too much. Too strong, to powerful, too big.
“Tell me you like it,” He breathed, tilting his pelvis up slightly, getting even deeper.
“I like your cock, Captain,” Your head lolled back as you rode him.
“Touch yourself,” He rasped, “I want to see you cum.” You moved your hand to your clit, keeping stride, and began to rub yourself, eager for your climax. Your arms shook and your muscles clenched and released as you chased the high. “Are you going to cum for your Captain?”
“Yes, yes, Captain,” You forced out in your throes, “I’m going to-to-to cum, Ca-a-a-a-ptain.” Your orgasm was stunning. Dumbfounding as every thought left your head. You forgot that it was Steve below you, that he had dragged you here, that he had fucked you just as roughly the night before; everything.
“Ugh,” He grunted, his hands on your hips as he sat up. He stood up easily with you still on his cock, bouncing you up and down. All at once he lifted you from his length and set you on your weak legs, nudging your shoulder. “On your knees, soldier.”
His cock twitched as you lowered yourself, still dripping with your juices. “Take my cum in your mouth.” He ordered with hands on his hips.
You grabbed his cock and began to stroke him. “Faster.” He groaned, “Yeah, yeah, more. Tighter.” He commanded your every move and you worked his length furiously. “Open your mouth.” You forced your lips open and tilted your head back, his cum spurting forth. You tried to catch it as best you could, hot ribbons landing along your cheeks and across your lips, your tongue coated in saltiness.
You slowed as his orgasm faded and released him as you sat back on your heels. As his cum cooled on your face, your cheeks burned. There it was; the humiliation. Steve reached downand smeared his cum across your face before grabbing your chin firmly as he forced you to look at him.
“Now, it’s time to test your stamina, soldier.” You had no choice but to stand as he pulled you up by your jaw, “Touch your toes.”
tags: @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @meaganottiz02 @patzammit
#dark steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#dark!steve#dark steve#dark!fic#dark fic#mcu#marvel#au#fic#sequel#insubordination
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You Send Me: Chapter Ten
Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe
A little bit of a time skip here, because otherwise this fic would have a ridiculous number of chapters if I went through literally every show on the 1978 Canadian/American tour roster lol.
Warning for some casually transphobic microaggressions from the reader’s mother in a bit of this. Nothing horrible, but it’s based off of how my family acts around me at times and so...it’s also not great either. If you had to put it on a scale of 1-10, 1 being eh not so bad I can ignore it to 10 being oh god jesus the fuck is wrong with these transphobic assholes, it’s about a three. Also some general verbal emotional abuse. Fun fact, some of the dialogue in this are near quotations of things my mother has said to me irl! I never thought I’d get any use out of that hurt, but here we are!
Also, some big conflict, and some difficult decisions to make for Y/N.
You were grateful, as the tour progressed, that you and Freddie had finally gotten to fuck when you did. Because after? There was simply no time.
It wasn’t just that stupid little things kept making you late (the van breaking down, a tire deciding it no longer felt like remaining on the van whilst on the highway no less, hotels not finding your reservations, venues with a whole variety of their own issues that made shows...interesting to complete) but that it was the heaviest fever-pitch of the tour cycle. It was about the middle, and things were settling, you in your job and the crew and band all together into a well-oiled concert-giving machine.
As a result, you were exhausted a good ninety percent of the time, and so was Freddie (along with everyone else.) Conversations at night had dwindled to ‘I love yous’ and ‘fuck me running I could sleep for a year’ before you both passed out, only to get up early and run again.
“Is it bad that I’m glad it’s nearly over?” you asked in the hotel room in Oakland, cuddled against Freddie as you both sat against the headboard of the bed.
“No,” Freddie sighed. “It’s great fun, but tiring fun. And eventually, you do get sick of it.”
“What show did you realize you were absolutely done with touring, this time around?”
“....Miami?” he said, and laughed. “No, not quite that early, not really.”
“Early tour jitters, maybe?”
“That’s more like it,” he replied. “Now, it’s definitely being done with it. For a while, at least. It’ll be nice to go home. To take you home.”
Your heart soared at that. It was common knowledge amongst the rest of the crew now as well, and you’d been lovingly teased over it ever since, that any time they caught you smiling, you must surely have been thinking about the end of the tour and heading to London with Freddie. To be fair to them, you often were thinking about it. It was hard not to, the closer it got.
The phone at the beside rang, and you both exchanged a look.
“Maybe a wrong number?” you mused as you picked it up.
“Where are you?” your mother’s voice was sharp, panicked. “And when can you get here?”
“Where, exactly?” you asked, slipping out of Freddie’s arms to sit on the side of the bed, stretching the cord of the phone less.
“Home, where else?” your mother asked exasperatedly. “Your grandparents are both sick, and I can’t do this by myself. I need your help. You said I could always count on you, my good little gi-”
Your mother stopped herself, then started again. “Child. Good little child, of mine. Anyway, when should I expect you here?”
You scoffed. “You can’t expect me at all. We only just finished the Oakland show, and then we have three in Los Angeles and one make-up show in Washington, D.C. after those. I can’t come home even after that because-”
You cut yourself off and turned to look at Freddie, who wore a concerned look on his face. It was sweet, and kind, and it brought tears to your eyes.
“Look, I’ve got to go. I can call you back later, and try and arrange to come out there in maybe a few weeks after the tour is over.”
“That’ll be fine, I suppose,” your mother sniffed. “If they’re still alive by then. But no worries, I’m used to taking care of everything for you all by my lonesome. Nothing new there.”
She hung up her end of the phone with a clatter, and that broke you.
“What is it?” Freddie asked gently, pulling you back onto the bed and into his arms. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
“My grandparents are ill, apparently,” you choked out in between sobs. “And my mother expects me to drop everything and go running back home, because supposedly no one else in the family will help her care for them.”
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, and kissed your forehead. “Were they sick when you left?”
You shook your head. “Not at all. But they’re getting on in years, I suppose it could just happen out of the blue. But why she waits to call me now about it, I don’t understand. And I don’t even know how she found out where I am, I didn’t give her the exact tour dates...”
A knock at the door, and Roger entered unannounced.
“Ah. Your mum got a hold of you then?”
Freddie nodded for you. “How do you know about it?”
“Because. Crystal is Y/N’s contact here, and that was the only contact number we let Y/N give out to family for while he’s here with us on tour,” Roger said. “He made sure Y/N’s mum had a list of the concert dates, and apparently she knew we were in the city but not which hotel, and god, some of the hotels around here are angry beyond belief that she’s been blowing up their lines so much-”
You sobbed even harder, unintentionally interrupting him, and Roger winced.
“I’m sorry. We...maybe shouldn’t have given her the full tour info. We never imagined she’d do that with it, that’s for sure. When she finally got in touch with Crystal here, she said it was an emergency, but she wouldn’t say what about? Is everything okay?”
“Family is sick,” Freddie said shortly. “And Y/N’s mother expects him home straight away.”
Roger nodded. “Well, if you must...”
“I’m not going!” you shouted, half of it coming out as an indignant laugh. “I don’t want them to die, but I know her, and I don’t believe it’s as bad as she says. She just wants me home so I can do whatever she tells me, so I can be another paycheck to help her pay bills after I find another shitty job there.”
You curled into yourself, your face buried in Freddie’s chest. “I can’t go back. I can never go back. But I have to, or I’ll never forgive myself, But I can’t go now!”
“Okay,” Freddie soothed, and you heard Roger leave the room by the quiet click of the door as it shut. “We’ll figure this out, remember? Maybe you can’t leave now, but...I mean, it’s really not ideal for you to go back at all, with the way you’ve said they act around you. But if it was me, I don’t think I could stay away, even if it turned out they weren’t really ill.”
He sighed. “There’s no easy answer to this, I don’t think. And not necessarily a right one either. But you have some time, some days at least, to make a choice on it. And I’ll do my best to support whatever you decide, I promise.”
You raised your head, and you could see in his eyes that he meant it, even if there was an edge there.
The edge, like a cliff for the two of you to tumble off of, where you went home and couldn’t leave again. Where you’d never see each other again. Where you’d languish in a city you hated, around people who loved you out of familial obligation but not out of pure emotion and care. And where you’d both miss each other desperately, but would never be able to reconcile that pain.
The shows after that were a blur. Not an unhappy one exactly, but not the ecstatic rush they had been prior. As you saw it, it was two separate eras: Pre-Phone Call and Post-Phone Call. Even with the troubles the tour had seen, you liked Pre-Phone Call much better.
“If you need to stop there,” Brian said as you all entered the airport, since there was no way to drive all the way back to D.C. in decent time. “You can. I mean, you could spend a few hours there, then be to Washington right in time for the show, I’m sure.”
You shook your head. “She’s waited this long, she can wait until this show is over, and that’s if I go at all.”
Brian nodded, and patted your back before following the rest of the crew as you searched out the area you were meant to be in.
The waiting at the airport didn’t lend itself well to your anxiety over the whole mess, and finally, you hit a breaking point.
“Bathroom,” you muttered to Freddie as you stood up from the couch the two of you were lounged on. John and Roger immediately pulled your carry-on bags towards them, and you were grateful for it. That little gesture, a sign of the oddball band and crew family you’d come to love so dearly.
And now, it might go away forever.
You pressed him up against the wall before you could even get near a stall; there was the risk of being caught, but you didn’t much give a fuck about it.
“Y/N,” Freddie murmured, kissing back only for a moment before grabbing you by the waist. “Hold on.”
“I’ll stop, and you can wait for me out there,” you said. “But then I’m getting off in here on my own. I can’t just sit there, and keep thinking about this, running it over and over and over in my head-”
He pulled you close, and you let yourself melt against him. “I can’t stand this.”
“I know,” he said. “I don’t think I know anyone who could. But this isn’t the answer, not right now at least. Maybe later, as stress relief, once you’re home, and it’s all over.”
“Home with you?”
“Where else?” Freddie chuckled softly. “We’ll make a day of it, making you feel good and loved and not thinking another thing about anything or anyone else. As soon as the jet lag has worn off of you, that’s when we’ll plan it for.”
“What if they don’t want me to go?” you asked, keeping your head pressed against his chest.
“Last time I checked, you’re a grown man, who can come and go as he pleases, wherever he might like,” Freddie replied. “Your family might not see that, or might not want to, but that’s the simple truth of the matter. They can want you to stay all they like, but you can do whatever you want. And what do you want right now?”
“To see my grandparents, make sure they’re going to be okay, then come home to you.”
“Then that’s what you’ll do,” Freddie said, and the finality of it soothed the gaping crater of fear and anxiety and frustration that had made its home in your chest.
It was easier to sit then, waiting for the plane, then waiting for the flight to be over (and watching Freddie fall asleep during it, head back, mouth open, out like a light, utterly adorable.) It almost felt normal again, as you went through the motions you had for the entire tour run.
Airport to hotel, drop everything, change, and then the run to the final venue.
----
This time it was mercifully free of water, rats, and anything else that might have caused a problem, and the owner seemed much happier and calmer for it.
That made the show feel cleaner too, watching from backstage as it all went off without a hitch. No broken strings, no outfit issues, no broken drum set, nothing wrong at all.
“You’re Y/N, right?”
You turned, and saw the venue owner holding a phone receiver, the cord stretched nearly to breaking.
“An emergency call, per the lady on the phone, she said to get you right away-”
You nodded your thanks, took the phone, and followed the cord back to its home, the venue owner trailing behind you.
“What?”
“That’s a lovely way to talk to your mother, when I’m calling to check in and wish you a good concert.”
“We’re in the middle of it now,” you said through gritted teeth. “I need to go do my job. How did you even get this number?!”
“I’m sure they can do without you for a bit,” your mother said carelessly, ignoring your question as if you hadn’t asked it at all. “Now, about your coming here, I have some things I’ll need you to do right away when you get in-”
“Look,” you interrupted forcefully. “I’m only coming to make sure Grandma and Grandpa will be okay. Then I’m leaving. I have another flight to catch, three days after I get to where you are. And I’m not changing it, or missing it, no matter what.”
She went silent for a moment, and you moved to hang up the phone.
“You know, it’s a real shame. We didn’t raise you to be so mean. And after all we’ve done for you.”
“This is not the time for this discussion,” you spat, looking out to the hall only to see Crystal there, giving you a universal ‘what the fuck are you doing?!’ gesture. “I need to go.”
“No time for your mother, or your grandparents,” your mother tutted. “What must they think of you there, when they hear you on the phone like this?”
“They don’t hear me, because they’re wondering where the fuck I am, because they need me to be with them, doing my job,” you replied. “I’ll be on a flight to you after the concert; we can talk more when I get to you.”
“Why won’t you say ‘home’?” your mother asked. “Just say it: ‘when I get home.’“
You bit your tongue, and held your breath so you wouldn’t screech in frustration and aggravation.
“Say it. For me.”
You couldn’t. ‘Home’ there had only barely ever been a home, only in the slightest sense. ‘Home’ now, was wherever Freddie was, and that was how you liked it, and you couldn’t and wouldn’t say anything to contradict it.
“Ugh,” your mother scoffed. “Fine then, be that way. Maybe you ought not come anyway; it would probably upset your grandparents and hurt them more, if this is how you’re going to be. We raised you to be considerate of others, but apparently you’ve willfully forgotten that lesson. Just forget all about it.”
She hung up, and you handed the phone to the venue owner, who took it with a solemn look.
It was like moving in slow motion after that, going through the motions to finish out the concert, but only being able to concentrate on trying not to break down and cry.
You couldn’t manage to go in the green room after. You wanted Freddie’s comfort, but not at the loss of his own post-concert joy.
Instead, you bummed a cigarette off of another tech, and went outside to smoke in the cold winter air, which was where he found you.
“You smoke? Since when?”
You shook your head. “Not since high school. This is only for tonight. Just getting me through.”
“Through what?” Freddie asked, and shivered. He was only in his concert get-up and the yellow robe he wore after each show. It was thick, but not much against the December wind.
“Through my mother telling me not to bother. Saying terrible things that I know aren’t true, but that I can’t convince myself of their falseness all the same,” you replied as you shifted off your jacket, and wrapped it around his shoulders.
“Put this back on, you’ll freeze otherwise,” Freddie instructed, but you left it on him.
“I’m not feeling much of anything right now. Hot, or cold, or anything at all.”
You finished the cigarette, and stamped it out on the snowy ground. “I should go help clean up.”
“No, Crystal said they’ve got it,” Freddie said, stepping in front of you before you could move. “He figured something had happened when you took a call mid-show.”
“I didn’t want to,” you said. “It was terribly unprofessional of me, and it won’t happen again.”
He sighed, and moved again to be beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You don’t need to apologize like that. Or at all. It’s fine, everything was okay. Turned out great, in fact. A good show to end the tour on.”
You knew the tears on your face were warm in contrast to the coldness of your skin, but it barely registered as they fell to the snow. “I wish it hadn’t ended. I mean, I did want it to so we could go home together, but now I have to go...there first and I kept somehow hoping it would all go slower. But it didn’t, and now there’s nothing I can do about it, and I don’t know how I’m going to deal with being around them again.”
He took your hand, and you let him lead you back inside, ignoring the concerned stares of everyone you passed. You knew they had questions, but they were all kind enough not to ask them right then.
You watched as he changed, sniffling in the one decent chair in the green room that he had deposited you in. You swore he was taking his time, for your sake, and it made you want to run over and kiss him, but you couldn’t seem to move.
He led you out of the venue again, onto the van, then into the hotel. Not a word passed between you and him to anyone else, even as part of you wanted to explain it all to them, to apologize for your suddenly going cold and quiet and broken.
“We’ll sleep, and then you can make a final choice tomorrow,” Freddie said as he helped you out of your concert clothes and into the one change of night clothes you had in your bag. You’d barely worn them while with Freddie, it was more comfortable to be just in your underwear, warm skin to warm skin under the covers.
The cold lingered in your bones now though, and you shivered even after you were dressed, even as he wrapped you in his arms under the covers.
You weren’t sure you would ever be ready for tomorrow, and you didn’t want it to come. To stay in the bed of the hotel room, intertwined with Freddie, safe and warm and loved, was the only moment you wanted to exist in.
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Schematics [Or, Another Chance] – Ch. 3, Law/Crime
Also available on AO3! Notes: Day 3 of @prowlweek! More Constructicon nonsense bc I, too, am a bulldozer rocketing down the street at max speed and my momentum cannot be stopped.
⏳ 🚧 🚓 ⌛ 🏗 🚧 ⏳
Third walk through the timestream: wasn’t getting any easier. Prowl was waiting for them somewhere in the past, and Hook had to keep reminding himself of that while every step felt like his frame was betraying him. He was behind Long Haul this time, an experiment to see if another member of the team would be better at following Prowl’s first instruction. Bonecrusher followed him. Scavenger had passed out once they’d gotten him propped against a wall, and Mixmaster had promised to use his downtime to find a way to reverse the effects of the powder. Though he only had a small assortment of chemicals on hand to work with, Hook had no doubt he would put something together.
He startled when he bumped into Long Haul. Again, he’d withdrawn so much that he hadn’t noticed the point at which he was supposed to stop. Patience was hard to define in a place where time didn’t strictly move forward, so Hook could be forgiven if he was in short supply. As soon as Long Haul started moving again, Hook followed him, feeling Bonecrusher close behind.
They emerged on a rooftop, under a bank of stars. Underneath them, a vibrant, writhing, pre-war Iacon pulsed with nightlife. This wasn’t a sight Hook had ever personally witnessed, though he might have once helped lay the foundations for something like it.
“This is 4th cycle 501,” Prowl said as the team gathered around, snapping their attentions back to him whenever they started to drift toward the distracting collection of lights and sounds down below them. “Nominus is Prime, the Clampdown is in effect… Am I forgetting anything?”
“Decepticons are growing,” Long Haul said.
“This would’ve been before Scrapper got us recruited, though, so Megtron’s not building arenas yet,” Hook added. “Autobots are on guard, but no one’s declaring war yet.”
Bonecrusher didn’t contribute anything. Whenever Prowl wasn’t the one talking, his attention drifted outward, to the sparkling lights and distant signs of life. Like Prowl, he was a little hard to read sometimes, but the steadiness of his movements indicated that this was no trip down memory lane: he was surveying, searching for any possible danger. Prowl was doing something similar, actually, though Hook didn’t dare to assume he knew Prowl’s intentions.
“Why did our guy put himself on the roof?” Hook asked. “He a flier?”
“He’s—”
“Hey, Prowl, isn’t that you?”
Bonecrusher’s effort had paid off. Standing at the edge of the roof, he pointed down to the ground level entrance. The others joined at his sides, just soon enough to watch Prowl and some other mech enter the building beneath their pedes. Hook glanced to Prowl, whose optic had brightened in interest.
“Oh,” he said, “I see why he might’ve come here.”
“What’d you do?” Long Haul asked.
“I was performing my function,” Prowl said. “Tu—Chromedome and I did everything as per regulation. That an incident occurred doesn’t—”
“Clowndome?” Long Haul interrupted. “What were you covering his aft for? You’re better than him.”
Hook felt a thrill of alarm as Prowl’s doorwings sagged down. He couldn’t let another mission go sour, not when they’d barely gotten this second chance. Furious at his teammate for potentially jeopardizing it (even if he wasn’t entirely sure what Long Haul had done wrong), Hook took advantage of their usual conflict resolution strategy: he slugged Long Haul in the arm.
“Hey!” Long Haul yelped, grabbing at the shallow dent that had formed. “What was that for?”
“Don’t say stupid slag,” Hook warned.
“The frag are you talking about?”
“Behave,” Prowl snapped, doorwings flaring back up above his head. Even if Hook didn’t know exactly what they were trying to say, the attempt at intimidation was obvious enough. It didn’t really work, not when the size difference between them was still so apparent, but both mechs stepped away from each other and turned their attention to Prowl. He huffed and straightened.
“To answer your earlier question, Hook,” he said, “our target does possess flight capabilities, though he is not especially fast. If we move now, there is a chance we can catch up with him. Hook, you’ll come with me for a perimeter check. Long Haul, Bonecrusher, you’ll stay here and keep watch over the timestream. Do whatever it takes to keep anyone else from finding it, but keep in mind that I am currently in the building and have no memory of encountering you this night. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they said. Hook thought he heard Long Haul grumble something, but since Prowl didn’t comment on it, he decided it wouldn’t be his place to, either.
“Can you at least tell us what we’re looking for?” Long Haul asked.
“He flies,” Bonecrusher offered.
“He’s green,” Prowl said.
Long Haul and Bonecrusher took up positions to either side of the portal, the latter with more earnest enthusiasm than the former. Prowl stood back to look at them once, like a general inspecting his troops, then turned his back on them to lead Hook to the opposite edge of the roof. The alley here was narrow, allowing them to leap across. As they started to maneuver the rooftops this way, Hook distracted himself from his vertigo by thinking about anyone he knew who was green and had something against the flow of time.
“It’s not that Liege Maximal guy, is it?” he asked. “Hated him.”
“He’s dead,” Prowl said.
“Yeah, and? Seems like everything that happens is because of some guy that was supposed to be dead,” Hook said, watching as his teammate surveyed the area around them before deciding another direction to head in.
“You mean Shoackwave.”
“Yeah, and also Optimus Prime, Metroplex, Megatron.”
“Hm.” Prowl peered down from the edge of one building, as though judging the distance to the ground.
“What?” Hook was pretty sure Prowl was thinking something. It would be generous to say that meant he was learning anything about his teammate, since Prowl was always thinking about things the others wouldn’t get to know anything about, but the noise he made suggested that something significant was going on in that processor.
“Your statement could almost make someone mistakenly believe you were anything less than jubilant when Megatron returned,” Prowl said.
Hook took a moment to make sure he understood Prowl’s meaning before he responded.
“You were in our head,” Hook said. “You know it was more complicated than that. We had a bad thing with the Autobots, and no matter how we felt about Megs, he was our ticket out from under them.”
“No loyalty to the Decepticon cause, though?” Prowl said.
“Eh.” Hook shrugged. He’d had this conversation with plenty of Decepticons before and had become comfortable with his level of commitment to Megatron’s fanaticisms. Sharing it again with Prowl, whatever he considered himself nowadays, wasn’t stressful.
“Mixmaster’s into it,” he said. “Can’t stand organics, and that means Bonecrusher’s on board, too. But for the rest of us, it just started as another job. I think Scrapper read Megatron’s big book before he got us hired, but it’s not like he ever told us about it.”
“Not a conversationalist?”
Hook didn’t know why Prowl was curious about any of this, but he was delighted and didn’t want it to stop.
“Nah, it’s just that he was like you,” Hook said, “everything was always about—”
Prowl grabbed Hook’s shoulder and shoved him down, until he was almost flattened on the roof.
“Prowl!”
“Shush!”
A silent finger pointed out, across the rooftops. Silhouetted against the lights of the living city and the stars above was a figure, standing still, looking out across this small slice of the planet.
“Is that our guy?” Hook whispered.
“No,” Prowl said. “That’s Orion Pax.”
Hook felt the tide of revulsion he’d become so used to over the years.
“Ugh, Optimus? What’s he doing here?”
“Doing exactly what he’s supposed to,” Prowl said. “When a Decepticon attacks the residential building, he’ll jump down and neutralize the threat.”
“When a—Prowl!” Hook’s systems revved at the threat to his teammate.
“Be quiet, Hook.”
He forced his engine to calm down and dropped his voice to a hush again.
“You never said you would be in danger.”
“I’m not, in a determined sense,” Prowl said. “Orion does his job and I survive the war, remember? Anything that happened prior to our meeting doesn’t concern you.”
In a logical way, yeah, sure, Hook understood what Prowl meant. He didn’t understand, though, how Prowl thought he would be comfortable sitting here, several blocks away, knowing that his teammate was about to be attacked. Even with combat routines locked down, he felt like he might bust out of his plating for all the effort it was taking to keep himself in place.
“Yeah, of course,” he managed to say, “but when the others hear you being shot at—”
“Hey!”
They swiveled around, following the sound of the voice back to the rooftop they’d come from. Though hard to see from a distance and in the dark, both were able to make out Long Haul. Impressive for his stature and his natural steadiness, it was a shock to watch him as he struggled to grapple with the much smaller Bonecrusher, who was apparently doing everything in his power to fling himself off the side of the roof. And, by the looks of it, that was a lot of power.
“Let go of me, Prowl’s in danger!” Bonecrusher roared. He broke free of Long Haul’s grip and sprinted forward, before he was flattened again by Long Haul’s tackle.
“We can’t,” Long Haul said, “Prowl will—”
“Who cares?” Bonecrusher demanded. “Let me—”
“Halt!”
The whole team, two on the original roof and two watching from afar, froze as a familiar voice traveled across the rooftops. Bonecrusher used the moment of surprise to get his legs underneath him and start to physically lift Long Haul off himself. As the surprised dump truck was tossed aside, Bonecrusher once more made a break for it, only to be intercepted by Orion Pax.
When the officer spoke, his deep voice was too low for either Hook or Prowl’s audials to pick up. Twice, Bonecrusher tried to dodge around him, but a firm hand would stop and put him back in his place. After just a couple minutes of talking, there was a sound of gunfire, glass shattering, and Orion had whipped around to look down and behind.
Then, he was gone.
“Did he just—”
“Yes,” Prowl said with an air of resignation. “He was fond of that sort of thing.”
Hook followed him back to Long Haul and Bonecrusher, who had scooted back to the edge of the roof to watch the action. They both turned at the sound of footsteps; Bonecrusher jumped.
“Prowl,” he said, “how did you get up—”
“Both of you, up, now,” Prowl said, ignoring the question. “We’re leaving.”
“Already?” Hook asked.
“There’s no sign of our target and even if he had been here, you’ve caused enough of a disturbance that we’ll be unlikely to find him not,” Prowl said. “Bonecrusher, you will have time to explain yourself when we return to base.”
“Not that much to explain, Prowl,” Bonecrusher said. “You were in danger. I had to protect you.”
“I was in danger in the past,” Prowl said, the glare of his single optic narrowing as he pointed an accusing finger up at the berserker.
“Well, yeah, but—”
“No,” Prowl said. “It is not your job to reason or make decisions. You leave that to me. Regardless of what the situation is, my authority comes first.”
Hook glanced at Bonecrusher, but still his stance gave away little. He didn’t know how to explain to Prowl that this was what BC did. He was the protector, the one who always had everyone’s backs. Even if Prowl asked if he understood, and even if BC said yes, he wouldn’t think twice about it if the same situation came up later and there was no one else to help.
“Follow,” Prowl commanded, as he led the way into the timestream. Long Haul waited the two seconds, then followed, but Hook lagged at Bonecrusher’s side, waiting until they were alone to speak up.
“What’d Optimus have to say?” he asked.
“Wanted to give me a citation for ‘disturbing the peace,’” Bonecrusher said. “Told me to wait here so he could finish filling out the form.”
The cant of his helm and the glint in his optic band told Hook exactly what he thought of that.
#maccadam#prowl week#prowlastator#prowl#constructicons#transformers#my writing#longfic#schematics#law crime
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queen of clean
actually managed to finish an entire fic!!! and i don’t completely hate it!!! what is this wizardry
Jake Peralta is an inherently messy person.
When he was a kid, his bedroom was a mess. His mom was always too busy working and dealing with the side effects of marrying a selfish, drunken slut to care and as a result, he never cleaned it up. When he finally got his own place, his bad childhood habits stuck. Clothes lived on the floor, dishes were never washed, shelves and drawers and cupboards accumulated clutter. He wasn’t any better at work; Holt once compared his locker to a Philippine garbage dump and Algernon the mouse was a frequent guest at Hotel Peralta, located in his desk drawer.
In a weird twist of fate, he ended up marrying Amy Santiago - the Queen of Clean.
Moving in with her was amazing and he’d never been happier, but it had also been a sharp learning curve. He was suddenly making his bed every morning (even though he just messed it up again every night #pointless), washing dishes after every meal and she helped him declutter Marie Kondo stylez. She has made him a better person in every way.
Unfortunately, with their jobs, they often work crazy long hours and bad habits sometimes creep back in.
Amy’s away and he’s been pulling double shifts all week and when he gets home all he wants to do is order Chinese food, Facetime his wife and fall asleep on the sofa in front of Property Brothers. Tiredness, missing Amy and being an inherently messy person are not conducive factors to a tidy, clean home. And, of course, he doesn’t realise just how bad he’s let it get until two hours before she comes home.
And it’s really bad. Even for his standards.
The laundry basket is overflowing. The bed has not been made all week. The kitchen is... Actually, he doesn’t even want to think about what state the kitchen is in. Talk about a Philippine garbage dump.
If Amy came home to this, she would flip. And probably immediately start cleaning it up. After a stressful week helping out her dad post- knee surgery and the always anxiety-inducing affair of travelling on her own, the least she deserves is food, cuddles and to come home to a clean apartment.
He changes into more comfortable clothes, switches on Lover and retrieves Amy’s cleaning kit from underneath the sink.
He starts with their bedroom and making their bed. He pulls the sheets over, smooths them out with his hand and styles with the decorative pillows Amy loves. It doesn’t look as neat as when they do it together, but it’s fine. It’ll do. He picks up his excess socks from all over the floor and empties the laundry basket into the washing machine. He throws all the chocolate wrappers from his bedside table away, wipes down the surfaces with Amy’s homemade cleaner and hoovers the floor.
Next, he moves onto the bathroom. He cleans the toilet, bath, sink and mirror and sprays some air freshener to make it smell nice.
Making excellent time, he begins to tackle the disaster zone that is the kitchen. A stack of pizza boxes and bottles of beer go in the recycling, he washes all the dirty plates and cups that are stained with coffee and tidies everything away into its appropriate cupboard or drawer.
That’s when Taylor is rudely interrupted by a text popping up on his phone.
AMY SANTIAGO, 17.57:
Babe!!! Great news!!! I managed to get on an earlier flight! David has just picked me up from the airport. I can’t wait to see you ❤️
“Shit,” he curses, looking around at how much more he has to do before quickly typing a response.
JAKE PERALTA, 17.58:
Can’t wait to see you either, Ames 😘
Picking up the pace, he cleans all the kitchen counters and the oven and also the floor and rushes round the rest of the apartment opening the windows, suddenly remembering that is something his wife likes to do. He straightens the dining chairs, cleans the table, and dusts some of Amy’s ornaments.
Moving onto the living room, he kind of regrets leaving it until last. It’s a total mess. Fortunately, he’s on a roll and it’s pretty easy to fix. He puts all the empty wrappers in the trash and cleans an extra coffee mug he forgot about (he drinks a lot of coffee, OK?). He dusts the TV, waters the plants and hoovers the floor. He’s plumping the final cushion when she opens the front door.
“You’re home,” he says dumbly before she crashes into his arms, hugging him as tight as she can.
“Now I’m home,” she responds, making him blush. She started referring to him as her home soon after they moved in together and, yeah, it’s cheesy, and, yeah, Rosa ripped into them when she overhead them say it one time, but it is true. She makes him feel safe and comfortable and vice versa.
“I missed you.” He kisses her. “So, so much.” He kisses her again. “Wait, how’s my best friend Victor?”
“He’s fine, just a little sore. And don’t let Charles hear you say that.”
“He’s probably had our apartment bugged for years,” Jake shrugs.
Amy scrunches up her nose in disgust. “That actually sounds like something he would do.” His actual best friend is obsessed with their private life. Like, obsessed obsessed. There are hundreds, if not thousands of examples, but just this week when Jake was Facetiming her at his desk, Charles popped up in the background to check whether she’d got her period yet.
(They’re trying for a baby).
(Jake was so excited when they finally decided to start that he accidentally spilled the beans to a delighted Charles).
(His obsession with her reproductive system at an all time high, he constantly recommends the best sex positions for conception, foods she should be eating and names for their future, although hopefully-not-too far-in-the-future, baby).
(Neither of them want to know how he’s suddenly started tracking her cycle).
“Speaking of the apartment,” Jake swiftly changes the subject, “what do you think?”
Using her finely honed detective skills, she clocks the neatly plumped cushions, the sparkling countertops and the lack of takeaway boxes anywhere. Her eyes water as she looks back at him. “You cleaned?”
“Yep,” he grins. “The entire apartment. Well, all the rooms I’d messed up. I didn’t go anywhere near your books, I promise.”
“Babe, it looks amazing,” she says, genuinely impressed and, to be honest, a little turned on.
“You should see the bedroom,” he lowers his voice into what he thinks is a sexy voice, kind of ruining the moment.
She rolls her eyes, following him into the bedroom anyway. Making the bed is a huge source of contention in their relationship and by the look on her face, she’s thrilled that he’s done that too.
“I even arranged your one thousand pillows,” he brags.
“Thank you,” she whispers, looking around the room in amazement. It never looks this tidy. There is always an errant sock or two on his side of the room, but the floor is 100% sock free. It’s beautiful. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”
“I love you. And this place was kind of a mess without you. I’m kind of a mess without you. But you’ve had a hard week and you deserve to come home to a nice apartment.”
“I love you so much, Jake Peralta,” she declares, grabbing his face and kissing him, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude into it.
When they eventually pull apart, he has a dopey smile on his face. “Maybe I should quit my job and become a full-time cleaner if you’re gonna kiss me like that.”
“You’re a dork,” she replies, punctuating her sentence with another kiss. She suddenly gasps. “Did you clean the bathroom as well?”
“Baby, I cleaned the whole damn thing. Toilet, bath, sink and floor. I even folded the toilet roll into a point at the end.”
“Oh my God. That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”
“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever said?” He blanches. His game must be way worse than he thought.
“Mm-hmm,” she hums. “What other sexy things can you say?”
He quickly searches his brain for something cleaning related that his wife would find sexy. “I... uhhh... vacuumed?” He says awkwardly. “And I, um, put the laundry on.”
She gives him an encouraging nod. “Tell me more.”
“I separated the whites and darks,” he plays along. “I put it on a cold wash to save the environment. I didn’t drop any socks on the way there.”
“Ohhh, mama...”
He’s always been a messy person, but if sex is the reward for tidying their apartment, he’s for sure going to do it more often. If she’s the Queen of Clean, he’s going to be her King.
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❧
Just after he died, he sat up.
You stare at your game, completely dumbfounded.
What the heck?! I know I just killed him with that last attack! I totally crushed the sorry little--
“Ding!”
“Ahh!”
You nearly drop your DS in a state of panic.
“What? Who? Where?!”
“Ding! Ding!”
Slowly you look toward the only source of light in your room, other than your game screens and whatever’s managing to peek in through your curtains. With a shaky breath of past anxiety you crawl across the cream-colored carpet of your bedroom to lift your phone off the desk, stopping next to a grape juice stain that was 100% Han Jisung’s fault.
Speaking of Han Jisung...
Crap, you’d completely forgotten about him! You rush to the window, opening it just as a rock comes flying for your face, having to duck to avoid a black eye or a chipped tooth. This guy. You peer down at him from your second story window.
“What the heck are you doing?! You almost killed me!” “Killed you?! I was aiming for the window not you!” You have to stifle a laugh at seeing him soaking wet from the automatic timed sprinklers in the neighbor’s yard, but it doesn’t go so well.
“Ha-ha, yes, laughing at my misery just like the rest of them. Hyunjin and Jeongin totally have corrupted you, liar…” You roll your eyes before throwing him a Sailor Moon blanket that could use a good run through the wash anyway, traces of a smile still evident on your face. “Geez, quit being such a whiny baby. I’m coming down, okay? Meet me out front!” “You expect me to trek back through no-man’s land?! What if my computer gets━”
That’s the last thing you heard, since you’d already rounded the corner on your way down the hall. You make a quick job of retying the messy bun of your I-may-or-may-not-have-been-brushed-in-the-past-twenty-four-hours hair before sliding down the rail of your staircase like a pro and swinging the front door open. Han meets you with a sour look on his face. He and Sailor Moon are both soaking wet, but somehow Luna and his laptop had managed to make it out unscathed. “I’m telling on you.”
“To who?” you laugh, stepping aside to let him in. “Hurry up and wait right here. I’ll go get you some fresh towels.”
He steps inside while his sour face turns quizzical, then slightly amused. “Hurry up and wait right here? The heck does that mean?”
“It means what it says! I mean, what it sounds like! Just…” You lock the door behind him, and he smiles. “How many cups this time?”
“......”
“C’mon, (y/n),” he chides, slinging off his pack at the door and tossing the wet blanket beside it. “How many?” Your brows furrow. “You’re not gonna tell on me, are you?”
His smile is nothing less than mischievous. “I dunno. Am I?” “Mrgrgr…” You march off to get him those fresh towels, your hostile movements warning him not to follow you, which he only laughs at and does anyway. ‘Cause that’s just the kind of jerk Han Jisung is. Smh.
The towels in the dryer are still warm from whence the cycle ended some hour and twenty minutes ago, so you toss him a couple of those and a smaller hand towel for his face or computer, whichever he decides to use it on. The pleasing scent of ginseng and honey-lavender dryer sheets wafts over your face and fills the small laundry room as you pull yourself out of the metallic chamber. “So what’s going on? Did you really come all the way over here just because you’re mad about the group text?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but the doorbell rings before he has a chance to answer.
You blink towards the sound as realization crosses your face. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back!” You have to be careful as you scurry on sock-clad feet across the honey-brown floorboards to the front door again, passively on the lookout for any water Han tracked on his way in. You can’t help but smile with excitement as you fling the door open. You frown. So does Felix when he sees the look on your face. “Wow. Someone’s excited to see me.” “You’re not Jaemin,” you state dumbly. He manages to keep a completely stoic face as he shakes his head.
“No, I’m not. Who’s that?”
“My brother. I’m expecting him to come visit me soon. He does every Sunday.”
“I see.” He’s looking down at his phone, then pockets it a moment later whilst giving you a cheesy smile. “Are you gonna let me in? I’d hate to meet the same fate as Han. Especially because I just upgraded my phone for the new game release tomorrow.” You do your best to cast away your disappointment as you let him inside. “Yeah, whatever, come join the party.” You stick your head out the door to check left, then right, ensuring no other thots were left unaccounted for before locking up again. “You got other company or somethin’?” he asks, eyeing Han’s things. “Nah, just Han. He stopped by like five minutes ago. He’s in the laundry room drying off.” You begin making your way back with Felix following a few steps behind you. “So what are you doing here? Also show me your phone, I wanna see! Wait, hold on, why do you need a new phone for Ultrascape? It’s not an app game, they’re only releasing it for Xbox and PS4. Also--” Felix begins to laugh a bit, eyeing you from above his phone screen that’d mysteriously found its way back into his hands. “Someone’s had coffee today. How many cups?” You groan as you break the threshold into the laundry room. “Seriously, you too? Why can’t you guys both just leave me alone…Hyunjin and Innie never give me a hard time about my drinking habits.” They both find amusement in your pouting, Han having just finished drying his laptop and tossing the towel into the hamper. “Wow, so you really do like them better than us. We can’t help it if it’s incredibly entertaining to make fun of your addiction problem.” “I wouldn’t say incredibly entertaining, but...yeah, pretty much.” the Australian boy agrees, giving a little shrug. He begins to mumble and ramble things into his shiny new phone screen. “Also it’s...y’know, kinda cute.” Something exotic washes over your cheeks and paints a picture of a sunny spring day on your insides, but you’re able to thankfully dismiss it as so thirty seconds ago as the doorbell rings yet a third time. This time when you open the door, you’re able to uphold the sheer joy on your face at seeing Jaemin smiling down at you with a drink carrier in one hand and a bouquet of lilies in the other. The ever-so-slight ombre tints in the roots of his light-dyed hair remind you of just how long it’s really been since you last saw him, even if it was only just a week. “I am Li-ly~ Of the va-lley~” he starts to sing, and you laugh, taking the drink carrier and giving him a cheesy wink. You sing back to humor him. “Of the quiet peaceful valley over there~”
You fling your hand out into a random direction off yonder, and you both burst into a fit of giggles like it’s the funniest thing in the world. The moment you open the door to Jaemin’s weekly Sunday visits, every time, no matter what’s going on, the collection of stressful events and uninvited anxiety in your life just seems to melt away into nothing; one of the many things you loved about your brother. But Han Jisung doesn’t seem to get it, given the blank expression on his face as he’s staring the two of you down from ten feet away. He doesn’t say anything either, only making things that much more awkward. “Umm…” You put on another grin as you gesture to your brother like a Nobel prize, since he may as well be anyway. “Han, this is my brother Jaemin. This is Han Jisung, one of my friends I was telling you about.” you explain. Jaemin’s smile is genuine as he gives the young man a polite nod, the other doing the same in return. “A pleasure. Thank you for looking after (y/n) in my absence. I know she can be a handful the way she’s always running into things.” “You mean like trouble? Yeah, she does that a lot. You should have seen her when we introduced her to Minecraft. But yeah, the pleasure’s mine as well.” “Minecraft?” Jae gives you a strange look above his normally sunny disposition, to which you reply with a playful shove and a roll of your eyes. “Yes Jae, Minecraft. Come on, you have to at least know that one.” “It’s not that I’ve never heard of it before. I’m just surprised you’re letting the season pass for League of Legends that I just bought you go to waste.” “I’m not!” you protest, stamping down your foot. “I just played a few rounds with Felix and Jeongin the other day!”
He shakes his head, tsking. “A few rounds...a hundred and eighty dollars down the toilet.” “Not so! We won! And I even...” Your voice trails off again as you look around, suddenly realizing something━ really someone━ is missing. You shoot Han a curious glare. “Where’s the other thot?” He’s engrossed in his phone like Felix was when he showed up at the door a bit ago, raising his eyebrows to show that he heard you. “Hm? Oh, he left about two seconds after you ran out of the other room. He got an emergency call from work.” “Oh…” You don’t mean to sound so disappointed, but it just comes out that way, and you can only hope the others didn’t notice. “Do you know what he came here for?” He mimics the action from before. “...Mmm...yeah, just a sec…” Just a sec quickly becomes a full minute, then two. You know the look on his face all too well. He’s definitely playing Fortnite. That’s what I get for giving him the WiFi password…
You grab Jaemin’s arm, pulling him away into the kitchen. Thankfully he doesn’t ask any questions. “Thanks for the coffee,” you say, pulling out your favorite particular beverage from the carrier after placing it on the island. Jaemin chuckles while searching the cabinets for a vase to put the flowers in. “It’s decaf, just so you know. I don’t need you bouncing off the walls after 3 pm, especially in your condition.” You frown at that last remark, but it doesn’t compare to the dreaded aura you send towards the thick stack of cards you failed to notice he’d been holding in his back pocket with a few smaller ones in the flowers. “What’s all that?” you ask; but you already know the answer. He’s eyeing you with warmth and delight, making it that much worse. “Why, this is your fan mail! I’ve got a tote bag full of them out in the car, but I just picked these up from the post-office on my way over. I thought they were for me because they were addressed in my name, but I think the girls must have gotten confused on who to address it to.” You scoff. No, they were just bold. Here’s the thing about your fan mail: It wasn’t for you. It was never for you.
It was for Jaemin. Your supposed “fans” couldn’t give less of a hoot about you or your health. It was your strikingly handsome, fashionable, polished, boyfriend-material brother they were after. The moment your friends...who were never really your friends to begin with...the moment they found out you had a brother, and that that brother was Na Jaemin, well, they all about had a meltdown of lovesick heartache and went batsh*t crazy. It was then you realized they’d never really been your friends at all, that they’d just heard some petty rumor that you and Jae were dating, and when he cleared it up that oh, no, that’s only my sister, they just started using you to get closer to him. Word had spread over the time of your departure from the university, and after moving back home within the first two weeks one of those Mean Girls (probably Regina) thought it’d be a swell idea to send you a get-well card in order to get under your brothers good graces. And because your sweet caring brother also had to be such a gullible dumbass, he had to go and tweet the word out that it’d be so great to see more of these! thinking those girls actually cared.
They cared alright, but not about you. So now you were getting mounds and mounds of these petty fake Get better! We’re always think of you! Hellmark greeting cards. And ironically, they were what fed your anxiety as of late. You open your mouth to finally tell Jaemin what’s really going on, because surely if he wasn’t getting it by now and the girls were getting this desperate it’d gone on long enough, but as you turn your eyes up to him from staring into the onyx marble counter-top something thin and sharp pierces a nerve in your gut. It’s Jaemin. You didn’t notice it before when he was standing so close, but now as you’re seeing him from across the kitchen, beneath the recessed lighting, he’s...thin. So thin. He’d always been slim, but never thin. He turns to the side, and you’re able to see his face now. His skin is a strange, almost translucent color, and there are deep purple blueberries under his eyes, the bags weighed down with hours and hours of lost sleep piled on by stress that shows in the poor coloration of his face. He’s still an attractive guy, of course, but...he looks like he’s auditioning for the role of Death. “Jaemin?” you say instead. Your voice comes out wavered, distorted, unsure. “Are you okay?”
“Hm?” He turns his head all the way towards you, and you feel like an idiot for not noticing as soon as you opened the door. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He smiles. “Why do you ask?”
Bless his heart, he’s putting on that fake smile for your benefit. You can feel your protective mom instincts winding into submission, the ones that usually only kick in when Jeongin’s around or that time Jaemin got the flu. “I dunno, you just look really...tired.” You stand. “Do you wanna lie down? I can take care of the flowers. I’m pretty sure the guest room is still clean if━ or maybe if you wanna crash of the couch for a bit━” His laughter cuts you off, and he shakes his head while waving a hand at you. “I’m fine, really. I’m always tired, you know this. Besides,” He finds a clear blue vase, carefully arranging the flowers inside and filling it with water. “You’re the one that needs to be resting. Go make yourself comfortable in the living room and pick out something for us to watch.” “......” “...What? Did you want to play a game instead?”
❧
[𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 (𝚢/𝚗) 𝚍𝚘? 𝙵𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚐 ➤ 𝚁𝚞𝚗 ]
“......” You shake your head, wandering out into the living room.
❧
[𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎? ➤ 𝚈𝚎𝚜 𝙽𝚘]
[𝚂𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐… 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛…]
[(𝚢/𝚗) 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎.]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙼𝚢 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎 → 𝙽𝚊 𝙹𝚊𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗 | [𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛!𝙹𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚡 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛!𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚡]
[ 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙱/𝚈 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 // ➤ 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙰/𝚇 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎 ]
#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#kpop oneshots#kpop imagines#nct dream#nct dream scenarios#nct dream reactions#nct dream oneshots#nct dream imagines#nct dream gamer au#nct dream text au#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids reactions#stray kids oneshots#stray kids imagines#stray kids gamer au#stray kids text au#hwang hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#yang jeongin#na jaemin#poeticallyspaghetti#gamer au#text au#Love My Game
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It’s Cold Outside
Written for @lalainajanes, this was supposed to have been written before the end of the Holiday Season, since she works retail aka the hardest job on this planet. Its mostly a ton of fluff, sorry folks, no smut here, but hopefully I can finish something else soon!
Caroline eased the tips of her fingers out of the mound of blankets and shivered. The air was bitterly cold, the fire having gone out sometime in the night. Around her the house was quiet, the soft sounds of snow sliding against the windows easily discernible. She hoped the lack of thunder and harsh winds meant the worst of the storm had passed. She supposed she could check the weather report if her phone’s battery had made it through the night, but that would require moving. She was not looking forward to untangling herself from her super cozy pile of blankets.
Or the man pressed along the length of her spine.
She was pretty sure Klaus was still asleep, the warm tangle of him lax, his breathing deep and even. Even with the layers of clothes between them, even the hat she’d crammed over her frizzy waves, she could still feel him through every line pressed against her. The tangle of legs, the way her wool clad feet were shoved against his. The heavy length of his arm draped across her waist.
It left her wondering how he’d feel naked and just as close, and those were both dangerous and familiar thoughts. Dating one of Rebekah’s brothers could make her social life messy, but dating her friend’s favorite was a recipe for disaster. Caroline had watched Rebekah cut people out of her life for much smaller infractions, and she had made it perfectly clear years ago that her brothers were off limits.
If only she’d known.
Caroline had laughed when Rebekah had made her pronouncement, not believing dating a Mikaelson would ever be an issue. She and Rebekah had become friend’s despite themselves, and at the time she couldn’t imagine how Rebekah’s brothers would ever be a temptation.
She just hadn’t anticipated Klaus.
She’d met him for the first time during the summer of her junior year, having landed a coveted internship in New York City. There had been a complication with her sublet, a broken pipe had made the space unliveable, and a series of conventions had made getting a hotel room for a night or two on her budget impossible. A panicked phone call to Rebekah had ended with Klaus being bullied into offering his guest room. Caroline had been too stressed to be embarrassed, and Klaus had been grudgingly polite that first night she’d shown up with her bags.
He’d ignored her babbled thanks, hauled her bags into his extra room, and told her that as long as she didn’t disturb him when painting and didn’t have sex in the public spaces, he didn’t care what she did. She’d spluttered at his words but he’d disappeared before she could manage a reply, leaving her red-faced in his guest room.
Caroline had texted Rebekah that she was at Klaus’ apartment, thrown herself into a quick shower and immediately started scouring the internet for a place to stay that wouldn’t end up with her on an episode of the ID Channel. It hadn’t gone well. New York’s renting market was vastly different from anywhere she’d lived, and she’d been forced to text Rebekah a series options before crashing hard before the first day at her internship.
Said internship had left her pulling late hours, often staggering home after midnight and crawling out of bed again at six the next morning to start over. But Caroline wasn’t a quitter, and she had a very deft hand with concealers. It did, however, make finding a place to stay tricky. Her daylight hours were packed and so she’d find herself running searches when wolfing down a midnight snack, exhausted and blurry eyed.
It was how Klaus had found her.
She’d been camped at his kitchen island, eating her cold pizza leftovers and scrolling through listings with one hand. He’d been paint flecked and rumpled, curls fluffed into disarray. They’d both just sort of stared at each for a long moment. Caroline had known that he was stupidly good looking, all of Rebekah’s family was unfairly attractive, but something about frazzled artist Klaus had done things to her insides.
Thankfully, exhausted-Caroline hadn’t had a chance to embarrass herself. The expression on Klaus’ face had been a familiar, even if she usually saw it with less stubble, and she’d shoved the remains of the pizza box in his direction. Hungry Mikaelson’s were usually mean, and she was too tired to deal with it.
She hadn’t expected him to sit and eat as directed, Rebekah usually took more coaxing and Klaus hadn’t seemed much like the social type. At best, she’d have expected him to grab a slice and disappear. Instead, he’d sat and ate while studying her from an expression only slightly paint speckled. It’d been a little nerve wracking, but she’d lost all possible shyness when he’d started butting into her apartment searches. His comments had been a mix of helpful and annoying. She’d stayed up way to late that night arguing with him, she’d barely gotten in enough sleep to count as a single REM cycle. But even though she’d needed seven cups of coffee to function the next day, she’d admitted, at least to herself, that it’d been worth it.
It’d been… fun.
Caroline had tried really hard to keep her impact on his space to a bare minimum. Particularly once staying a few days had stretched past a week and that had meant avoiding him as much as possible. She’d expected him to react more similarly to Rebekah having he space invaded than he had. Klaus had been engaging and smart, bitingly sarcastic at times, but over all he’d been weirdly nice about her enforced stay as she’d complained about subletting in New York City.
Maybe that should have been a warning flag, but she’d been tired and off her Mikaelson game. Having narrowed her list down to two potential opportunities, she’d been cautiously optimistic that her stay at Klaus’ apartment would be ending.
The cupcakes on the counter had been her only real warning. Klaus in the kitchen when she got home in and of itself hadn’t been particularly alarming, but a Mikaelson offering bribes was never a good sign. It didn’t help that Klaus, freshly showered and alert, was an unfair sensory overload that had little to do with the warning bells going off in the back of her head.
Klaus had been completely unapologetic when he told her that he’d called his realtor about her situation. He’d ignored her loud noise of disbelief, and continued on that after a chance to really dig into the current renting market, it looked like her best bet was to stay where she was in his guest room. Caroline had not taken his suggestion well.
It had felt too much like mooching. Klaus has already refused her offer of rent when she’d tentatively broached it when she’d been stuck for that first week, and to extend that for another six weeks had left her spluttering with anger. She’d tried to be reasonable between gritted teeth, pointing out that she’d only called Rebekah for help in desperation, and his spare bedroom was an emergency location only, not a solution.
He’d made that clear the first night, hadn’t he?
Klaus had listened to her rebuttals with a little smile that made her want to bite him until she had run out of air. Then, picking up a cupcake, he’d unwrapped it while using her mom and Rebekah to cut her legs out from underneath her in two neat sentences. She’d kind of hated him a little for it even if the rest of her grudgingly admired his cutthroat tactics.
She’d still eaten the cupcakes, even if she’d really, really disliked that he’d been right. He’d been smart enough not to gloat in his victory, sliding her the box and disappearing back into his room. Too irritated to sleep, she’d written out a pro and con list for her new situation. Finally and irritably, she’d admitted her wasn’t wrong. His apartment was much closer to her internship that she’d have managed to find on her own, and the extra hour of sleep was a huge benefit. His doorman was friendly, the nightlife was awesome, and as long as she didn’t murder Klaus it’d probably be okay.
At least she didn’t have to share a bathroom.
But for all of her lists of lists, her fanatical attention to detail, there had still been challenges. The weekly cleaning service had taken some getting used too, and she’d still sneak re-cleaned her bathroom every time. The lack of things to clean when she’d been unable to sleep from stress had been annoying. Thankfully, Klaus hadn’t complained too much the time she’d rearranged his spice cabinet in a fit of anxiety and cupcake driven paranoia at three in the morning.
In fact, he’d sat on his counter with sleep heavy eyes and listened to her ramble about memos and models until the pre-dawn hours with only a small bit of complaining. She’d bought him flowers in thanks, and she’d tried not to read too deeply into his niceness. Rebekah had many things to say about her favorite brother, but patient and nice had rarely come up.
Thankfully for her sanity and her inability to shake off her awareness of his cuteness, for all the times they ran into each other, they still missed each other just as often. She could go days without him appearing from his studio. She’d given up on tip toeing around the first week of her stay, and as the summer moved on, she’d forgone any niceties or concerns for his sleep schedule pre-coffee.
Then pizza night became a thing.
Caroline couldn’t remember quite why pizza night had started, she was pretty sure it had something to do with post work drinks, and tipsy-Caroline being hungry after a night out. She was a bit fuzzy on the details, and hoped she hadn’t rambled too much. Tipsy-Caroline was a talker and a lot cuddly. Klaus hadn’t said anything, and she’d tried not to blush for almost a week.
But whatever had happened, every Thursday night for the rest of her internship, she’d walk in to Klaus and pizza. He’d poke and prod at her until she was spluttering; she’d argue with him over the silliest of topics until she was yawning and he’d shoo her off to bed. It became her favorite night of the week.
She found Rebekah’s brother to be a strange mix of snobbery and hard work, that biting sarcasm she enjoyed and a charm that was occasionally sweet. Little things cropped up in the apartment that she knew were for her even if he never explicitly said anything. Small things. A hand soap she liked or a certain snack in the fridge. Little sticky notes with cute sketches. She still had all of them, tucked away safely in new apartment.
And okay, maybe she’d developed the teeny, tiniest of crushes even knowing that liking Klaus had been a bad idea all around. A girl only had so much willpower against accents and dimples and clever wit. But Klaus wasn’t someone she could date casually, and there wasn’t any chance for a hot sexscapade. Not with Rebekah being such an important part of her life.
In the end, she hadn’t known how to say goodbye.
Thankfully, Rebekah had flown out for her last weekend in NYC, which had kept her goodbyes from being awkward. Klaus had been especially busy with a series of paintings and had left them to entertain themselves, but he had cleaned up and taken her and Rebekah to dinner their last night. He’d even emerged from his painting cave to wish her luck the morning she’d moved out. He’d already been smeared with paint and a little more disheveled than she was used to seeing, and keeping her goodbye hug platonic had been both easy and difficult.
She hadn’t really wanted paint on her clothes.
The trip back to the airport had been wistful, and Caroline would never admit it to Rebekah, but leaving had felt like a missed opportunity. She would never have stayed, she had one year to go, and so she had forcibly put Klaus and lingering possibilities out of her mind. But New York had always been her end goal, and twelve months later, she had moved into her shoe box apartment. The weeks she spent moving and adjusting to her new workload had been amazing and stressful, but it wasn’t until she finally settled that she found her thoughts drifting back to Klaus. Caroline had found herself idly wondering once or twice if he’d mind if she showed up with a pizza.
If he’d been in the States, she might have done it.
But a little bit of casual fishing with Rebekah had confirmed that he was currently in Europe promoting his newest gallery and wasn’t expected back in the States until after the New Year. Putting aside her disappointment, she didn’t even know if he was interested though she had hope, she’d thrown herself into her post-graduation life.
Caroline found she adored New York in the fall, pumpkin spice lattes and leaves falling in Central Park. But even as fall turned cold and blistering, stringing up Christmas lights and forming her tiny tree had been a tiny milestone she’d loved. She’d flown home to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with her mom, the quiet town of her childhood a stark contrast to the city she lived in now. It had been nice to realize she didn’t miss it, that Liz was happy that Caroline was building her life.
New Year’s Eve was in Vale, Rebekah having been super insistent that their friends circle spend the holiday in the new year at the Mikaelson Family Lodge. Caroline had avoided asking if her wish for an activity outside NYC was as much the opportunity of most of her family being overseas or a reaction to the very messy breakup weeks before.
Fervently wishing that her bestie had chosen someplace warmer to spite party without her ex, Caroline had packed up her ski gear and set her teeth. Since she was flying from Virginia instead of New York, she would end up landings hours before the rest of the group, but she was looking forward to the silence. She’d planned on a long bath. A chance to raid the wine cabinet, and maybe some picturesque selfies on her bedrooms balcony.
She just hadn’t counted on a legit blizzard rolling in the day if her arrival. It would figured her one trip to Vale would be a disaster. The storm was supposed to have been intense but manageable, so she hadn’t worried too much when she’d been getting on her flight. Chicago has its fair share of winter storms, she could manage the weather for a couple of days.
She knew how to drive in inclement weather.
Once she’d landed in Denver the weather had been a different story. The weather predictions had worsened and airlines had been presumptively cancelling flights. A quick phone call to Rebekah had confirmed that they weren’t getting out of JFK that night, any planes heading into the Midwest grounded. It had also become clear that if she didn’t want to spend the night at the airport, her best bet was to ride the storm out at the lodge.
The worst of the storm was supposed to have hit later at night, so Caroline had decided to roll the dice and rent a car. The two hour drive would only get worse the longer she waited, and the roads were expected to remain open for several hours.
Driving in the steadily falling snow had been tiring, her muscles drawn tight with strain. She’d texted Rebekah her plans but hadn’t heard back, her reception spotty, and it been with a great deal of relief that she found the house lights on as she’d pulled into the driveway. The walkway was mostly free from snow, as if someone gave deliberately shoveled, and she hoped the Mikaelson paid the caretaker well.
Yanking on her jacket, Caroline had grabbed her bags and made beeline for the front door, shivering in the wind and snow. The door had opened as she’d reached for the handle and she’d nearly slipped as she caught sight of who was standing there.
Klaus, with his mouth set in disapproval, the sweater he wore soft and comfortable looking, inviting her cold fingers to reach out and touch.
“I thought Rebekah was joking when she said you were making the drive.” His words were terse, edged in exasperation as took her bag and ushered her into the heat of the house.
Caroline rolled her eyes as she headed straight for the fire,yanking at her scarf and gloves. “It’s not my first time driving in snow, and I refuse to sleep on an airport floor.”
Klaus had made a rough noise of disbelief. “What would you have done if you’d gotten stuck?”
“The worst isn’t supposed to hit for a few hours,” she’d protested, looking over her shoulder with raised brows. “It was perfectly fine and…”
Her words cut off as the power flickered and the. died around them, the fire their only source of light. The sudden silence had been punctured by the crackling of the fire, and Klaus exhaled slowly. “I’ll go check the backup generator.”
Caroline set her jaw and started pulling her gloves back on. “I’ll go with you.”
Both of his brows had arched. “You just got out of the storm, love. You sure you want to go back into it?”
To puncture his words, the windows rattled as the wind picked up. “You might need me to hold the flashlight. Plus, I know how generators work, being as this isn’t my first snowpocalypse.”
She could tell he had wanted to argue, but he’d manage to refrain. They’d trudged out into the storm together, and Caroline hadn’t argued when he’d use his taller frame to block the worst of the wind. Their investigation had lead to the discovery that mice had chewed through the wires, leaving the generator unusable. The cursing that had come from Klaus had almost been worth knowing that they were going to have to figure out how to deal with the snow without the convenience of running water. Caroline had taken back all her mental thank yous to the caretaker. She would have killed for a shower or bath to thaw in and was extremely unhappy she wasn’t going to get one.
Once back in the house, Klaus had rolled his neck with a sigh and eyed her. “Come on. I picked up dinner earlier. I’ll share. We’ll open a bottle and figure out our options.”
Caroline frowned and slipping out of her wet shoes, thankful for her thick socks and making a point to avoid the growing puddles as snow melted off their jackets. “Do you think the power will come back on?”
“Doubtful, sweetheart. The winds have been picking up all evening, and it is as likely someone’s asinine Santa decoration took out a power line as it was a tree limb. We’ll have to make due, I’m afraid.”
Dinner turned out to be Italian. The lasagna was room temperature, the cheese a bit congealed, but the wine made up for it. As had her company. It had been ridiculously easy to fall back into old patterns, and so much harder not to let her eyes linger on the curve of his lips, the hint of a dimple in the firelight.
It was with regret that she forced herself to be practical once she finished her food. Sleeping arrangements needed to be decided upon, their water supply examined. A quick perusal had showed that while the generators had been neglected, the pantry was well stock with food and water they could live off of should the storm last longer than expected. The bedrooms all had thick blankets, but also large windows and thin curtains. The master bedroom hadn’t been much better even though it did have a fireplace. In the end, with its fireplace, doors, and easily covered windows the den had ended up being the unanimous winner.
They’d wrestled a double mattress into the den as Klaus had refused to sleep on the floor and had convincingly argued the couch wasn’t wide enough for two. Deciding not to complain when she didn’t want to sleep on the floor either, she’d helped him move things around. By the time they’d piled the bed with blankets and settled in for the night, she’d been exhausted.
Thankfully, so had Klaus. Getting into bed had been quick, both of them covered in layers of clothes. Secretly, she had really been hoping Klaus snored or drooled or something that she could use to keep her hormones in check. Seeing Klaus again, sharing a bed with Klaus, had woken all sorts of ideas she had thought she had kept in check. And instead of being annoying, Klaus had proven to be an excellent bedmate and a quiet sleeper. And really, stupidly comfy.
Taking a bracing breath, Caroline mournfully decided it was best get up and deal with the fire. If the storm had eased up, it was likely that the roads would be cleared soon. Rich people rarely lived with inconveniences, and Caroline figured it wouldn’t take long for the airport to be functioning. Snow plows would start clearing the streets as soon as it was safe. She figured it would be best to get the den straightened up and eliminate all signs of their forced cohab for the night even if the rest of her social circle would be showing up much later that night.
Taking a deep, bracing breath, she pushed up to try to untangle herself. The arm wrapped around her waist tightened and she squeaked as she was pulled backwards, firmly against Klaus’ chest.
“It’s cold,” he murmured, voice sleep rough. “Stay.”
Caroline bit her lip to keep from shivering. “I was going to restart the fire.”
His fingers flexed against her stomach and she felt him move around behind her. The sound of the covers shifting and the familiar click of a phone screen was loud, and she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the little grunt of disbelief he made. “It’s six am, Caroline. I don’t remember you particularly enjoying mornings.”
“Technically, it’s eight am in New York,” she pointed out just to be contrary. For all that he’d complained it was cold, the bed was cozy with the combined heat, but she didn’t feel like reminding him of it. Burrowing back into her pillow, her voice was slightly muffled by the bedding. “We can’t stay here forever.”
“Perhaps not,” Klaus agreed softly, legs brushing hers as he settled behind her. The bed didn’t provide much space for them both and a tangle of limbs was nearly unavoidable. Not that Klaus seemed interested in avoiding her, his arm still draped across her waist. “But I’m in no hurry to leave, either.”
“Not a fan of the cold?” Caroline teased yanking the blankets higher, hoping to cover the heat in her cheeks with the motion. “How does that work? You live in New York.”
He laugh was soft. “And as I’ve been told, so do you, love. But I was referring to my current company, not the slightly unfortunate temperature.”
Caroline’s eyes widened, fingers curling tightly into the sheets at his casual admittance that he’d talked to someone about her. The sudden jump in her pulse left her breath hitching in her throat, and she tried not to fidget. “New York was always in my plans. I’m pretty sure I mentioned it at least once.”
“You did,” he agreed. “Does the city still meet your expectations?”
Taking a bracing breath, she glanced over her shoulder to find him watching her intently. There was a crease from his pillow on his cheekbone above his usual stubble, and his eyes were dark in the low light. “It’s nice to be able to afford more than a single drink at a time, and I still hate the subway. But I think I’m getting used to it.”
She’d found herself fitting easily back into brightly colored flats and comfy sneakers for running to catch a train, and her boots had gotten a much needed upgrade once the weather had chilled. For all of her complaints about public transport, she loved having a coffee shop always around the corner and highlighted takeout menus on her fridge. She was still looking for the perfect yoga class, but her legs were in fantastic shape.
It was messy, but it was hers.
“I’m glad,” Klaus said simply.
Biting her lip, Caroline rolled onto her back to study Klaus’ face more closely. There was a quiet sort of intimacy laying there with him, even with the layers and layers of clothes between them. Toes curling nervously beneath the pile of blankets, she forced herself not to fidget.
“I thought about swinging by with a pizza to say hi, I was pretty sure the doorman would let me in, but I was told you were in Europe.”
His lips curled slowly, a hint of a dimple peeking from his cheek. “London seemed less of a trial than my apartment after you left.”
Not willing to read into that when she wanted it so badly, she looked at the ceiling in mock exasperation. “You probably ruined the spice cabinet in a week.”
He made a rough sound of amusement, but his gaze was serious when her eyes returned to his. “If only your lingering presence was limited to my spice cabinet. You were in the magazines on my coffee table, your trash tv addictions just sitting there on my DVR, the precise way you’d folded your bathroom towels after the maids left last. You were gone and I still couldn’t escape you.”
Caroline her felt her cheeks heat, her mouth going bone dry at the dip in his voice, the smallest hint of gravel. “First of all, those shoes are quality entertainment, and I’d have thought you were happy to get your space back.”
“You cannot imagine I let just anyone rearrange my kitchen at three am, Caroline.” His brows arched, something warm and amused lingering in his eyes. “Much less confiscate my DVR with their poor television choices.”
She’d known that but hadn’t been able to really read into such a thing with her last year of school standing firmly between them. Carefully inching closer, she watched for any sign of discomfort or distaste but instead, Klaus settled a hand against her spine and pulled her closer still. She sputtered out a laugh, something giddy rising in her chest, and forced herself to focus.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Klaus’ chin tipped downward, both brows arching. “A pretty girl living with the older brother of her best friend? It was rife with potential commentary from our mutual acquaintances, as I am sure you can imagine. By the time I realized that it was more than just a bit of lust, I’d also realized how bad of an idea it would be to start something when you still had so many choices to make.”
Caroline could respect that. She hadn’t been ready for something serious. It could only mean good things that he’d realized that and waited. But her school hadn’t been the only elephant in the room.
She bit her lip, words slightly hesitant. “Rebekah won’t be happy.”
Klaus’ lips quirked at her faint warning. “My sister doesn’t share well, true. It’s a family trait, I’m afraid. But as I do t believe either of us are looking for a fling, she will get over it. Eventually. Assuming, of course, you wish to pursue something that would lead to her throwing such a fit.”
His fingers tightened slightly against her spine, a sign that the question had been difficult for him. It was nice knowing that he was as nervous as she even if he was hiding better. Particularly with how much she liked Klaus, the potential for more than just like she could see not that far in the future and she wanted it.
More importantly, she had already decided that Rebekah’s feeling weren’t more important than her own. It wouldn’t be an easy conversation and her friend was likely to throw the tantrum Klaus had alluded to, but Caroline was certain they could work through it. But it was important that Klaus knew that she had decided on him, that she had done so knowing the Rebekah would be unhappy.
“I was going to use that pizza dinner as a chance to find out if you were seeing anyone,” Caroline admitted, fingers lifting to toy with the ties of the hoodie he wore. “And if you weren’t, receptive you’d be to a move or two.”
His eyes flared with interest, thumb brushing slowly across a knot of her spine. “What kind of move?”
“The kind of move where I wore something short and tight that made my boobs look fantastic,” she said with a slow growing smile. “It couldn’t be too racy of course, Rebekah would never believe my outfit a coincidence if I showed too much skin. For that, I’m going to have to bribe her with candy flavored vodka and those English cake things she likes.”
“Not a fan of fairy cakes, love?”
“Oh no, they’re delicious, but for someone who drinks pure sugar disguised as alcohol, I do not understand her hatred of frosting.”
Klaus laughed softly, eyes lowering to the curve of her lips. “A discussion for another time, I think. I’m not particularly interested in the things my sister likes, Caroline.”
It was with more than a twinge of regret that she covered his mouth with her palm. Both of his brows arched in question, confusion clear on his face. Caroline took a deep breath and tried not to think about the feel of his stubble under her fingertips, and wonder how it would feel against much more delicate skin.
“You were going to kiss me.” The low noise of agreement he made set off butterflies low in her stomach and did not help her resolve. At all. “You can’t kiss me.”
His free hand lifted her palm from his lips and he tipped his head. There was no censure in his voice, just a careful caution she appreciated. “No?”
“Well,” she amended. “You can’t kiss me right now. It might be early, but we need to get the fire going and figure out food and I’d really like to brush my teeth. And you know, figure out how long until we can expect the power to turn on and the roads to be plowed. I’d also really, really like to get this room straightened up because if Kol teases us about sharing a bed Rebekah is going to be livid and I’d prefer her to be maybe not drunk, but at least tipsy before the conversation about dating her brother happens.”
His hand shifted so that thumb stroked slowly along the curve of her bottom lip as she drew in a breath. “And after we accomplish this mental list of yours, Caroline?”
“That depends,” she said brightly. “A girl has to have standards, and while I’m totally onboard with the kissing post-toothpaste, your half frozen hands aren’t getting anywhere near my boobs.”
Klaus’ laughter shook his whole body and she forced herself to maintain a straight face when what she wanted to do was laugh with him. Ducking his head, he caught her fingers and pressed the wide curve of her smile against her palm. Her breath caught, and for a moment they laid there, watching each other. Then Klaus pushed up, taking the heat of the blankets with him, and she squealed. He took no pity on her, pulling her up with him, and she pressed against the heat of him once they stood, shivering.
“As delightful as this is,” Klaus drawled, tugging at the ends of her hair. “I cannot start a fire and cuddle with you at the same time, sweetheart.”
Nodding, she reluctantly moved away from him. “Fine. I’ll track down some of those water bottles and then start folding the bedding.”
His eyes glimmered with laughter. “Don’t forget the toothpaste.”
Caroline huffed out a laugh then, reaching back to redo the mess of her bun as Klaus stepped around her. For a moment, she watching him move, the shift of his shoulders beneath the layers before making herself look away. She had no doubt that he would have the fire going in record time. She’d brush her teeth and give Rebekah a call, find out what kind of timeline they had to work with and then she’d very happily submit herself to a few hours getting handsy with Klaus.
It would have to suffice until they made it back to New York. Then she’d suck it up and break the news to Rebekah before she let Klaus take her to dinner. If he was really lucky, she’d show him some of her new, pretty and very adult lingerie. Delighted with her plan, Caroline went hunting for her cellphone, happiness a bubbling in her chest.
It was going to be a great New Years.
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MONTHLY READS | December 2018
Happy 1D Fanworks Appreciation Day! Thank you so much for all the hard work you put into your stories and the courage to share them with us! I am so grateful for all the amazing authors in this fandom! Here are the fics I read this month, as always, Top 5 + 12 more under the cut.
Captain Jack
by jaerie for 1D Fanworks For Charity | DARK DRUG FIC - Please read the tags on the fic page carefully! | a/b/o | 31k Louis has been searching for something and Harry is there to give it to him. Drugs, sex, disappointment, and the tangled web they’ve woven that keeps them trapped in the same cycle.
Better Not Pout, I'm Telling You Why
by runaway_train for Larry Holiday Fic Fest | Christmas | fluff | strangers to lovers | workplace relationship | 24k Niall wipes his hands again with his cloth, jaw tense as his eyes narrow in contemplation at the man in front of him. After a pause, he opens his mouth. “OK, I need to tell you something and you have to promise not to laugh.” Oh here we go, now the truth is away to come out. “Okaaaay…” He drops the towel. “Harry still believes in Santa Claus.” Louis hoots out a single loud chord of laughter. “Fuck off. No he doesn’t.” “He does. I swear.” Niall manages to say it with a completely straight face, but he must be taking the piss. “Niall, he’s twenty two. Do you honestly expect me to believe he’s managed to make it this far through life without someone telling him the truth that Santa isn’t real?” Or The one where Harry still believes in Santa Claus and Louis doesn't want to be the one to burst his bubble.
Santa Baby Honey
by SadaVeniren | Christmas | crack | fluff | humor | BDSM | exhibitionism | 28k “Let’s cut right to the chase,” Niall said, loading the powerpoint, which was just one page, comprised of Louis’ face and the words How do you solve a problem like this asshole? “It’s the beginning of November and Louis is already being a fuckwit. How are we gonna have him knock that shit off this year?” aka Louis is the CEO of a toy company and Christmas is a stressful time of year so his assistant decides the best way to make him chill out is by getting him laid through a Secret Santa
O' Christmas Tree
by Justalittlelouislove for Larry Holiday Fic Fest | Christmas | kid fic | fluff | 15k At a stoplight, he finds himself doing some retrospective thinking of his own. Instead of going over one of his fifty or so mental to-do lists, his mind drifts to Harry’s dimples, the way his whole face changed when he smiled, how some of the pine trees almost matched the green of his eyes perfectly. It’s- well it’s annoying is what it is. He can’t spend all his time thinking about some tree farmer with broad shoulders, he’s got bigger fish to fry. Girl Scout meetings, homework charts, client lists, lots and lots of very large fish sitting around waiting to be fried. or: Louis has a busy schedule to keep and a daughter to raise. He definitely isn't looking for a relationship. Enter Harry Styles, a local Christmas tree farmer that seems just a little too good to be true.
Along The Heather
by noellehenry for HLRegencyVictorianFicChallenge | Victorian AU | Jane Eyre AU | verbal abuse | physical abuse | Minor Character Death | panic attack | attemped murder | angst | mystery | 35k Orphaned Harry Styles grows up with his cruel aunt and cousins, before he is sent away to a boys' boarding school, which teaches poor and orphaned boys. Even though his aunt tries to undermine Harry's experience at the school, he does well in school, and stays on at the school as a teacher after he graduates. When he becomes restless after significant changes at the school, he applies for a job as a tutor at Thorgill Hall, teaching the younger brother of Mr. Louis Tomlinson. Harry develops romantic feelings for his pupil's brother... Thorgill Hall,however, holds a secret; it’s becoming slightly more eerie every day and when his life is threatened, Harry makes a drastic decision…
Your touch is the only thing I feel
by 2tiedships2 | a/b/o | strangers to lovers | fluff | 15k Liam. Liam was finally here. Louis kept his eyes closed and cuddled farther into Liam’s side, revelling in the pheromones Louis’ body desperately needed. He wasn’t sure how long Liam had been holding him, but Louis figured it had to have been at least an hour by the way his body had loosened. The need of an alpha’s touch seemed to have been temporarily lifted from his mind. Louis listened to the sounds of the pub around him. It was louder than before he had fallen asleep and he briefly wondered why Liam hadn’t just woken him to go back to their flat. “Who the fuck are you?” Louis’ eyes flew open at the sound of Niall’s voice, and the arm that had been around Louis shoulders lifted in the same instant. He missed the warmth immediately. Louis looked from Niall’s stormy face over to the person who was definitely not Liam. The alpha Liam impersonator, who smelled a lot better than the actual Liam now that Louis was alert, looked back at Louis with wide eyes and familiar furrowed brows. Or the one where Louis refuses to settle for just any alpha despite intense touch deprivation. Fortunately Harry isn't just any alpha.
Pull your-elf together
by EmmyLouWho for Larry Holiday Fic Fest | Christmas | fluff | pining | 4k Louis looks Harry up and down. “Hang on, aren't you a bit tall to be an elf?” “Alright, Princess Leia,” Harry says, and Niall loses it. “Ohhhhhh,” he says. “Harry, we are definitely going to be good friends.” Or: Santa's Winter Wonderland is a great place to fall in love.
And Touch Me Like You Never
by runaway_train for Larry Holiday Fic Fest | Christmas | implied/ referenced drug use | implied/ referenced alcohol abuse | mildly dubious consent | angst | roommates | coming out | friends with benefits | dom/sub undertones | friends to lovers | pining | 35k “Lets move back a bit yeah?” Harry clutches at his waist with a free hand and tugs him to move through the crowd until they are almost at the back of the group and settles them both beside the far wall. “There. That better?” Louis looks up at him, as if he’s a tad dazed. “Uh, yeah, thanks. Can’t really see much from back here either though.” Harry lifts a shoulder and grins at him, placing a hand on the wall behind Louis to pen him in. “We’ll just have to create our own fireworks then, won’t we?” He says it jokingly with a wink, and Louis laughs but he seems nervous. He must know that Harry is harmlessly flirting. Harry flirts with everyone after all, including Louis. “Do you think this is a good idea Haz?” Louis asks quietly, almost too quietly in the clamour of the room, his head bowed as he scuffs his shoe on the carpet. “Stop over thinking it Lou, it’s one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?” Or The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.
Head Over Heels
by Sasparella76 for Larry Holiday Fic Fest | Christmas | enemies to friends to lovers | 26k Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are both up and coming editors at Cowell Publishing. Louis thinks Harry is brilliant at his job and beyond gorgeous. It’s just a pity that Harry is also the most annoying man Louis has ever met.
Holiday Greetings (And Gay Happy Meetings)
by 2tiedships2 | Part I of It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year | a/b/o | Christmas | strangers to lovers | enemies to lovers | fluff | 18k "Onwards to drop me off at Robert's before you go to Harry's!" Louis proclaimed when they were safely in the car. Or at least Louis was safely in. Niall was still brushing the snow out of his hair that Louis had accidentally dropped on him. "We're picking up biscuits first," Niall grumbled as the snow melted into his hair. "You can wait in the car." After three times of the car sounding like it was dying a slow and tragic death, it finally decided to start. "This is what happens when you try to change the name of your car after five years," Louis said as a reminder of Niall's stupidity. "You'd be upset too if you were a car named Greased Lightning with a passenger trying to get it renamed to Dusty." "To be fair," Niall explained, "the name Dusty does seem a bit more accurate." "Make sure to leave the car running while you're getting whatever you're getting from Harry," Louis said in disgust. "This car is going to choke for good after that comment and I don't want to be stuck at Harry's place when that happens." Or the one where Niall's dead car and and a foot of snow conspire to force Louis into spending time with an alpha he hates.... or does he?
(That's Just) The Way I Am
by lululawrence for 1D Fanworks For Charity | fake/pretend relationship | lights angst | 17k There was no way Harry would want to bring anyone out for an introductory trip like this. The fighting between himself and his father was sure to be be worse than usual and father still hadn’t accepted Harry’s pansexual identity. Harry wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, but at this point he almost wished he were dating a man just so he could incense his father. The door jingled, pulling Harry’s attention away from the window and to the man who had just walked into the cafe. Now that was exactly who Harry should try bringing home. The man was dressed in ratty black skinny jeans and what was obviously a self cut tank top that used to be a Stone Roses t-shirt. His black chucks had holes in the canvas, indicating exactly how old they were, and his maroon beanie wasn’t in much better shape. The more Harry studied the man’s smoky eyeliner rimmed eyes and the lipstick he had swiped on to match his hat, the more Harry started hatching an idea. What if Harry really did bring this man home?
I Just Wanna Give You Love
lululawrence for 1D Fanworks For Charity | soulmates | famous/not famous | 18k Graham Norton appeared on the screen introducing his guests and out of nowhere, everything in Louis’ world was turned upside down. Louis gasped as he intently took in the man on the screen, smiling and waving from his seat beside Sir Ian McKellen. “Oh my God,” Louis said before it all sank in as to what it meant. “Holy fucking shit!” “Louis William, you watch your mouth,” Jay said. “What has got into you?” Feeling like a madman, his palms to his cheeks, Louis couldn’t help the tears of surprise, relief, and fear as he turned to his mum. “What colour are his eyes? What do you call that colour?” “Louis, are you telling me that the man on the screen, Harry Styles, is your soulmate?” Or the one where the world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate, but Harry is world famous and Louis is...well...not.
This is a Rainbow War
by lululawrence for 1D Fanworks For Charity | famous/ not famous | friends to lovers | fluff | pining | travel | 15k “So what are we doing?” Niall asked as he slipped in. “Harry seems to really like rainbows,” Louis said, purposefully vague. “So let’s go ahead and make sure he’s really in the spirit.” Louis untaped the flag he’d used to hold it together and showed Niall what he had inside. He’d been keeping a wide variety of flags from each show and gathering them until he had enough to cover Harry’s entire dressing room with them. “Oh this is going to be great,” Niall said with a chuckle. “Oh my God,” Shawn said excitedly. “It’s going to look like someone puked pride flags all over a campsite.” “Exactly,” Louis said. Or, the one where Harry's a famous singer, Louis is part of his road crew, and after Harry gives Louis a special assignment regarding rainbow flags, things maybe turn out a little differently than either of them planned.
Naughty or Nice
by noellehenry | Christmas | miscommunication | innuendo | humour | fluff | 10 Louis never intended for his boss, the very attractive Harry Styles, to find out he has a temporary, additional job as a Christmas Elf at Harrods Department Store. When he gets a request to show up in his elf costume at Mr. Styles' office, after office hours, Louis' mind goes wild...
Nobody Likes To Be Played
by rosegoldhl for Girl Direction Fic Fest | Girl Direction | infidelity | implied/ referenced homophobia | fluff | friends to lovers | emotional/psychological abuse | 19k The first thing she realized as she walked into the bar was that there was some sort of gig from an unknown, obscure rock band, the kind of music Louis enjoyed. The second thing was that the place was packed with teenagers and university students, and Harry looked out of place in trousers and a polka-dot shirt. The third was that this outing was destined to ruin her life.
Until I Found You
by dimpled_halo | a/b/o | Cam Boy/ Porn Star | enemies to friends to lovers | slow burn | fluff | 45k Harry Styles is the popstar of the century, or so the media proclaims. He’s linked to every omega he’s seen with, donned as an alpha lothario who isn’t ready to settle down any time soon. His team works hard to publicise him as an alpha who can’t keep his knot in his pants, but not everything is as it seems. Louis Tomlinson, an aspiring musician working as a porn star and camboy, is waiting for his big break. When he meets Harry Styles he can’t stand the alpha that only uses his power and fame to bed as many omegas as possible. He runs into him at a party and hopes to never see him again only to find that Harry’s assistant is dating Louis’ best friend. To make matters worse, Harry’s about to embark on a world tour and is in need of a guitarist at the last minute, an opportunity Zayn uses to put in a good word for Louis. What happens when the opportunity that Louis has been waiting for finally comes, but at the price of having to share the stage with one Harry Styles?
Merry Birthday
by jaerie | Christmas | a/b/o | soulmates | soul marks | 9k Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson have unfortunate soulmarks branded onto their skin. The first words their soulmate will ever speak to them are two of the most common greetings, so common that they don't even notice when it finally happens for real. A Christmas soulmate AU.
#captain jack#better not put i'm telling you why#santy baby honey#o' christmas tree#along the heather#fic rec#monthly reads#my reads#28th appreciation#1d fanworks appreciation day#pairing: larry#completed fics#girl direction fic fest#1D fanworks for charity#Larry Holiday Fic Fest#hl regency victorian fic challenge#my fic rec#1D fics#larry fics
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I have been extremely not-here (hey!! dark blue!!); this is because Exciting and Good things are happening.
(Long as heck, sorry.)
I left home, finally. Should have done this years ago, but then again I didn’t have the tools to know I needed to leave, not until recently.
I’ve moved halfway across the country, living in a city I actually want to be in, near people I like.
Found an apartment. It is fucking amazing! It’s like $500/month plus utilities, upper floor of a duplex. Three bedrooms. One of the two others is currently filled; the roommate is quiet, nice, a student, seems mature and reasonable. My room is giant. It definitely used to be the living room. There is a little alcove that I absolutely will turn into a reading nook. Just... generally beautiful. So much light, big windows, spacious kitchen, nice living room, high ceilings. It’s near a lot of great stuff, two miles max from places I want to be and usually much closer. (A library, potential workplaces, at least two universities, grocery stores, my girlfriend’s house.) I have not met the downstairs neighbors, but they keep the heat turned up really high and heat rises, and they have a dog, so I love them automatically.
Signed the lease, have keys. Moving in Friday. I have keys to my apartment! This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.
(I have never rented an apartment before! I am so extremely enthused about everything!)
I am proud of myself for doing all the calling people and following up and figuring out financial things; generally I am unusually bad at these things (...this is not new, I need an ADHD evaluation and at this point I’m pretty confident it’d be a useful/accurate diagnosis, my brain fits very well into the diagnosed-with-ADHD cluster, I am almost hilariously ADHD-ish). I’m finally figuring out a system that consistently works for me, and I did not forget to do any important things while finding an apartment. I always forget to do at least something important! Even when trying as hard as I can and using plenty of checklists! This is weird!
And I got the apartment within a week of getting here. I am doing unexpectedly well.
It’s also... I don’t know. I have never permanently lived away from my parents (longest has been, like, two or three months consecutively) and there are a lot of emotions coming up. Most of these emotions are along the lines of “I do not have to be walking on eggshells constantly, nobody’s yelled at me for a full week, people keep apologizing for being inconsiderate, if someone is doing something that bothers me I can ask them to stop, I’m not having a breakdown without the Protective Influence of My Family, I don’t have to go back, what the hell.”
...I’ve started going through a DBT self-therapy workbook. It is uncomfortably useful.
I have never really doubted that people could care about me. My family cares about me absurdly much -- I believe that they would do anything if they felt that it helped me. But we are different enough that the things they feel should help me are often in fact harmful, and vice versa.
To my father, direct communication is violence. It has not historically been possible to ask him if I am allowed to (for example) turn down the heat without mortally offending him. I have never succeeded in asking him for information or to do a task without in some sense harming him, and neither have other family members; their response is to ask him for nothing, and mine is to leave.
And he loves me very, very much. And he has never intended to hurt me -- I believe this. I think that the things he does to hurt me, which I’m not listing here, feel just as necessary to him as the ways in which I hurt him feel to me.
There is no reason to doubt that people can care about me, and my experience of people caring about me always has been one of being hurt, and I now am figuring out how to have people care about me without them hurting me, without me hurting them. (It’s new and scary and wonderful.)
Anyway. Right now I’m focusing on the job search.
The best job situation possible with my current qualifications: three twelve-hour shifts per week being basically a nurse’s aide in an emergency department, making well above living wage. (I would be middle-class, officially middle-class. I could afford health insurance.) Three days of doing the really cool high-stress high-pressure job and nothing else, it’s just that and commuting and sleeping and eating, and then the other four are open.
(okay, fine, based on what I know about my personality and financial preferences “open” would end up meaning “time that is available for overtime,” but it’s the thought that counts)
So I’ve been applying for job openings along those lines. Got a likely offer as an aide at an assisted living place -- it’s pretty good hours and pay, low-stress. Also just interviewed for a call center with good hours, pretty good pay with fast increases. (The work would be stultifying but I would be fine doing it for a few months if I couldn’t find a different job soon enough.) Also got an interview for a non-ED hospital nurse’s aide job -- I think it went well. I should know soon.
All things considered, I’d rather be in an ED if I can. Three days a week of forced high-intensity non-thinking? Nice. (If I get the non-ED hospital job, I can probably pick up overtime in the ED anyway.)
...My girlfriend’s husband convinced me to apply for the ED jobs. He is very smart, very ADHD, ridiculously funny. I was going to put here some very convoluted statement about how he shares some personality traits with me, how his life looks a lot like one potential success state for me twenty years down the line. That’s... not necessary. It’s really just I want to be like him when I grow up, more or less. Far from the worst role model I could’ve chosen.
I mean -- he understands, I think, the need to be active and moving, doing a lot of different things, short feedback cycles. For me -- probably for him as well -- high-intensity stressful periods of limited duration are regulating or calming, not harmful. I keep fantasizing about getting the job, just going nonstop at maximum intensity for those twelve-hour shifts, and then coming home and... not doing that. Being able to use the time for other things, hopefully having burned off some of the excess energy so I’m not pacing around organizing things really fast for twelve hours at home.
(you know how if you leave a border collie without enough stimulation/enrichment it’ll like strip the walls of all the wallpaper it can reach, or herd the neighborhood kids, or chew its fur off, etc.? that’s me! I need Things To Do! if I am not Doing Things, I will find Things to Do, and these are not necessarily anywhere near the right Things!)
So potentially not having leftover obligations, coming home and being able to choose what I do, being able to cook and interact with people and read and listen to music and clean and optimize my budget and fuck around on the internet without being at work. I hated college because of this -- there was never a moment when I was not supposed to be doing something, instead a constant background awareness of needing to do tasks that are unusually incompatible with my brain.
(...again, I need an ADHD evaluation)
So. Things are good. I’m happy. I don’t expect to be this happy forever but I think it’s a reasonable goal, not even a stretch goal. I am noticing a new capacity to fix things about my brain. It is not exactly easy to convince oneself that the people you care about will not normally hurt you if they always do, and now for the first time in my life it is true. Other things as well; for most of my life my parents tried hard to ensure that I believed I was incapable of surviving without them, then very actively discouraged me from seeking out other perspectives or skills. This was, as far as I can tell, mostly unintentional. I believed it completely for all but the last year or two. This is a pretty big thing to be wrong about, and I was extremely wrong! And it’s kind of awesome. Life will not be as difficult as I had believed, and even when it’s difficult it’s okay, I can get through the rough patches.
I don’t do well with stagnancy. I do not do well with being trapped. Currently I am not stagnant and I am not trapped and it’s strange how easy this is, strange and exhilarating.
...And sometimes when I’m outside walking in my city, I am struck with this overwhelming sense of location, of ownership. This is mine, these streets are mine, and I don’t have to leave. It feels like home. It feels really, really fucking good. The first time I ever felt homesick was last summer; I’d come to this city for the first time, lived here for a few months, and then went back to my hometown. And I missed the city, and I missed the people -- missed my girlfriend and her family -- and I knew then I had to leave my hometown, knew I could.
I’m home. I am in motion.
(Updates to follow.)
#things are real good#family cw#emotional abuse cw#(not... not really? but also probably you don't want to read this if you do not want to see that!)#personal#news from meatspace#original post#happyblogging#brain wrangling
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In Your Hazel Eyes (2/?)
Pairing: Ralph/Reader
Rating: M to become NC-17 eventually
Chapter: First / Next // AO3
Summary: You are a customer support worker at a company that works for Cyberlife. The schedule is tedious and busy, so it’s easy for you to get caught up in the cycle of work-sleep-work without so much as finding something to smile about. You decide to take a new walking route one day and come across a garden, and in the garden, a peculiar Android that you grow ever so attached to.
This is the story of how you meet Ralph and fall in love, how you both find eachother again after he goes missing, how he learns to heal from his trauma and live like a free man after the revolution.
The following morning came too quickly. Like a banshee, the alarm beside your bed shrieked into the air of your apartment, abruptly yanking you out from whatever dream you were having. You managed to turn the damn thing off, but only just as the last fleeting moments of the night time visions faded away from memory. For a cold moment you were left to the hard reality of life again--like every morning, it took a breath to absorb it all once more, as if you're entire life had happened all in the expanse of a night and it was up to you to take it and go.
Bare feet against the wooden floor, you padded through your tiny, one-bedroom apartment to get ready for work. It was a cycle you had moved through so many times that your body was on autopilot, leaving your mind to wander from thing to another now that you were, for the most part, conscious. Thoughts about life, about work--those were all simple and tedious things you already had to think about on an occupied mind. No, you let yourself think, to wander about your curiosities and entertain what came forth.
By the time you were in the shower, the reminder of something popped into your head. A face, a smile and a pair of pretty hazel eyes.
Ralph.
And just like that, a flood of memories from the day before returned to the forefront of your mind, acutely reminding you of all that had happened when you decided to stop at that little garden area on the way to work. You remembered talking to him, remembered the way he looked so confused when you asked for his name originally.
You remember feeling so weird that he didn't have a name.
Sentience was something powerful. The ability to distinguish the self was a defining factor for why humans were able to achieve so much in the first place, or at least plenty of people argue as much. Personhood, the right to be, well, alive, came with that notion.
Were androids sentient?
It was a question that came with a lot of weight. Despite living dead-center in the bloom of technology in both time and geographical area, you had a surprisingly low number of encounters with androids as a whole. Hell, even though you worked in a call center for Cyberlife, you had yet to step into a store itself. You were in a position where you could simply sidestep the worrying thought, simply pretend that your life could be its own boring, self-contained sphere.
But you remembered Ralph and his deep, soulful-looking eyes. You remembered the way they watched you, the way they danced with emotions so well--it was nothing like talking to a machine.
A machine.
The term hung on your mind like a coat on a rack, soaking-wet and heavy with doubt. You wondered if anyone had thought about the topic so deeply before, if anyone had been so awestruck by an android’s level of humanity that they too had to question what might have been inevitable of a fact--were they truly alive?
There was such a genuine conflict in your head that you stopped the train of thought--it wasn’t hard to see why some people may have never given it any thought. Would your mind change if you had been around other androids? Was it simply how human Ralph looked that made you wonder?
The entire process of getting ready for work takes no more than a bit over a half hour, on a good day at least. By the time you’re done, the sun is hovering over the horizon of the morning sky, shining down rays of warming sunlight over everything it can touch.
Most days it serves as a reminder for how early it was, and just how much you hated waking up at that time of the morning. It couldn’t have been much different than most workers though--a simple fact of life that everyone had to grumble through in their own way.
Fall was starting to creep into the air. Summer was on its last legs, consistent warm days turning into a coin toss mixed in with cold nights and breezy, cool afternoons that started people to require a jacket or so. The trees had begun to change color along parts of your walk to work--every day they looked a little more red, gold or orange, and every day more of them fell like a shower around you when you walked beneath their shady canopy.
Peaceful. It was the only moments of peace you really had when you counted the stress of both work and home. Adulthood was just like that, you guessed--moments of peace in a sea of problems and issues.
About ten minutes in to your walk had you stepping into the more bustling parts of the outer city, with roads further converging and crowds a common sight along the sidewalks. It was by about then that you started passing through the major square, the one filled with TVs and blaring with sound that, luckily, didn’t seem to come with any anxiety-inducing news.
You heard the distant weather forecast (getting colder, put on a jacket!) and the winner to last night’s sports game (home team won, what a game!) but your eyes wandered instead to the small park that filled the center of the square.
The one from yesterday.
You stood still for a moment, taking in the sights that you hadn’t quite taken in before, when the sun was glittering down over the trees. They too were changing colors, though they seemed yet to lose any of their leaves. There were families walking through the center pathway, a pair of children playing hide-and-seek around one of the benches--the flowers seemed to be just a touch more colorful in the morning light. It was, honestly, quite beautiful to see.
You glanced about the park from where you stood, hoping to see a familiar shape walking about. When you couldn’t find him, you started walking around, circling one side of the park, and then the other. Still no sign of Ralph. The absence of the gardener disappointed you more than you thought you’d feel--an odd feeling for someone you had only just met the other day.
It struck you after a moment that it must have looked odd, sounded odd if someone would have stepped up to ask why you were looking hopelessly around for someone, only to answer ‘I’m looking for an android I met yesterday because it feels like I made a friend’.
The only thing you’d get in return would have been a weird look, assuming the person didn’t feel particularly angry or annoyed with androids that day; unemployment was almost at 40%.
You tried to cover up your searching by sitting at one of the empty benches, hoping that Ralph had stepped away for a few minutes. Perhaps he was gathering the supplies he needed for the flowers, perhaps he was assisting someone who put in a complaint or comment about the park. Perhaps he was just….running late? Did androids even run late to work? That was under the assumption that their work was a job, and they had free time after the job and…
Too complicated, too many rabbit holes that your mind wanted to scurry down and follow to the end.
You stood up slowly from the bench and, with one final glance around, you started the second half of your walk to work.
The office felt busier than ever when you got in.
On any given day, it wasn’t uncommon to take a few calls in a half hour, with most of them being resolved with some simple answer a customer could have figured out themselves with a proper internet search.
It wasn’t unusual to be a bit busy, but it was absolute chaos when you stepped into the building. The air was filled with ringing phones and conversation, most of which you couldn’t do much to pick out from one another; they all blurred together in a constant, buzzing noise that followed you all the way to your desk.
You had a few minutes before you had to sit down and start taking calls, so you used the free moments as an excuse to lean over one of the dividers to the desk beside you. The young woman who sat there, Renee, was a short, unassuming young woman in her early 20’s. She was one of the best callers despite her young age, taking one after another without so much as a hint of fatigue--you often handed her the most capricious of customers since she could handle them so well.
Luckily enough, you found her just as she was setting the phone down. You seized the moment to speak before she would instinctively reach to pick it up when the inevitable ring came.
“Hey,” You said, waving your hand over the divider to catch her eyes. She turned them over to you, glittering green and curious. “So uh, what’s going on today? It’s uh, busier than usual?”
Though you were damn sure of it, there was still a moment of awkward fear that maybe it seemed that way simply because you were bad at your job, hadn’t noticed something on your walk, or a bit of information from last week’s meeting. Maybe even--
“--a new model.”
You blinked, not realizing you had been so deep in your thoughts that you missed nearly all of what Renee had answered with.
“S-sorry,” you offered an awkward grin. “Could you repeat that?”
The young woman smiled and pointed to a screen towards the end of the room. It was flashing over a news story that answered your question as much as she herself did.
“Cyberlife announced a couple new models today,” Renee said, looking back to meet your eyes. “The calls are all from local warehouses and private business trying to secure pre-orders, at least that’s been most of my calls since I got in earlier this morning.”
Thank god for Renee and her wide, exuberant grin. That alone was plenty to calm your nerves, help you realize your feverish worry was nothing more than paranoia-fueled fear. At least it explained things; you hadn’t a lot of experience with pre-orders, but there seemed to be plenty of more experienced employees around you to help if it was needed.
Alright then, it was time to get with the grind. After clocking yourself into the system with the computer on your desk, you saw the red light flicker to life on the phone beside you. After a breath, it began to ring. Instinct had you reach out, pluck it from the receiver and hold it to your ear as your mind started to numb itself into the workday’s beginning.
“Hello, Androtech Suppliers, proud partner of Cyberlife technologies!” Your voice sounded chipper, bright and automated. “How can I help you today?”
By the time that the work day is done, you’re exhausted. Despite having been at a desk for the last eight hours of your life, you feel drained, life sucked right out of you. The sound of ringing phones has been grating against your ears for the last hour because, by god, there is no way to make a tone that doesn’t eventually rub your mind raw and numb when it means that you have yet another customer to work with.
Clocking out of the system is a victory, albeit small in the grand scheme of your sanity, but it’s satisfying to gather up your things and make your way out of the office, the building, and finally onto the sidewalk just as the sun seemed to be dipping out of the sky.
Exhaustion is heavy in your limbs, your thoughts, tugging you down with every step forward. Though there’s certainly nothing physical with your job, the drain is still intense, leaving you feeling so empty by the end of every shift.
You made your way towards home in silence, thoughts gently rolling over the events of the day. Phone calls left and right, one after another that you nearly didn’t have a chance to step away from your desk to each lunch. Renee said that’s how new models usually went down, at least in terms of preorders--it was going to be a busy couple more days until the initial hype dropped and things evened out again.
Working hard for the paycheck, you supposed, though it would be nice to have enough energy to actually do something worthwhile after work every night--Friday seemed too far off to think about, a mere mirage over the horizon that you’d never get to.
By the time you arrived at the halfway point of your walk home, darkness had already crept over the skyline. The sun was gone, hidden away behind the tall buildings and horizon, and the streetlights had started to flicker to life.
You stood under the soft glow of one, looking out towards the garden that filled the area of the market square. At first, there doesn’t seem to be anyone there; the garden itself looks silent and empty.
It’s not quite clear why sadness seems to fill your heart at the sight, or lack thereof, but you’re more than aware that you had been hoping to see a particular face.
Something compels you to stay. It’s no more than a tiny whisper in your thoughts, but it’s enough to give you reason to take a seat at one of the nearby benches. Your feet hurt after all, the consistent walking has not done well for your old pair of sneakers--you really need to buy some new ones, maybe with some extra padding.
When you let yourself drop onto the bench, a soft and familiar voice rings out nearby.
The sound of your name catches your attention, startling you enough to quickly move you back onto your feet, one hand clutching the strap of your bag.
“I--Yes?” you turn your head down the center path of the garden, towards the shopping center, just in time to see those soft hazel eyes gazing back. Ralph approached you quickly, a smile on his face and a gentle flicker to his LED. “Oh, Ralph!”
The recognition poured into your expression and you laughed, falling once more unto the bench when you realized how silly you must have looked at being so surprised at his entrance into your attention.
“Goodness, and here I thought I wasn’t going to see you again,” You said with a laugh gently hanging on your words. “I didn’t see you this morning on my way to work.”
Ralph stood awkwardly beside the bench for a few moments before finally deciding to sit beside you, though he kept very much to his own bubble, pressed to the other side of the sitting area as if unsure how to hold himself.
“I...was required by my programming to get maintenance done.”
You glanced towards him, taking in his gentle features and neatly-kept hair.
“Maintenance?” You asked curiously, if only because you knew so very little about the logistics behind city-serving androids. “Is that something you have to get often?”
Ralph didn’t answer at first. Instead, he merely looked down at his clasped hands. He...looked nervous, for some reason, though you didn’t feel like it was appropriate to prod--it left you concerned, regardless, and you reached out a hand unthinkingly to lay over one of his own.
“Is...everything alright?” You whispered gently.
It was a gesture of comfort, you didn’t really give much thought into the reason behind it, nor to the fact that the being sitting beside you didn’t inherently need for the same comforts as a human--or did it?
Regardless, Ralph shook at the touch, looking surprised at it, and you quickly drew your hand back in the realization of what you had done.
The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, both with your eyes on your hands and your thoughts to yourselves. It...wasn’t a very good feeling, awkwardness bubbling in your stomach, unsure if you had said or done something wrong. Maybe you had--maybe you were trying to make a friendship from nothing. Maybe all you were doing was hindering this android from his job, forcing him into social niceties--could that be part of his programming? To humor humans around him who wanted to talk?
You weren’t sure. You didn’t like not being sure.
Abruptly, you pushed yourself onto your feet, ready to walk off and forget everything and go back to your normal, boring life. You were ready just to toss all your curiosities and worries aside about the gardening android you’d named ‘Ralph’ and pretend that it was all a silly little fantasy.
A hand on your wrist stopped you, fingers gentle but firm as they wrapped around your limb, holding you still when you were about to walk away.
You stilled, felt his grip linger, and then slowly moved to sit back down on the bench, a little closer this time to Ralph.
The silence didn’t last for much longer than a breath or two.
“...Most humans don’t pay me any mind,” Ralph began to say. “We--I--was created to tend this garden, which includes the programming to interact with guests and find out what they like, how I can continue to improve this garden. But….I have never spoken to a human before. Not...like you.”
“Me?” You asked softly, unsure of what he meant.
Ralph nodded. “You talk to me as if I’m….” He paused, trying to find the words. “As if I’m another human.”
His LED was flashing at that point, back and forth: blue, yellow, blue, yellow, red , yellow--
“H-Hold on now,” You forced words from your mouth even when you didn’t entirely have them nailed down yourself. “Hey, it’s alright, just….it’s okay, I promise.”
You didn’t know exactly what you were promising, but it did seem enough at least to calm the android down a bit. He pursed his lips and finally looked in your direction. Did he look….confused? Hurt? The expressions were very hard to decipher when they were all muddled together on his face at the same time.
Ralph’s eyes looked...surreal. Vulnerable. Curious. They looked almost human, if only for a moment, neglecting the still-flashing LED on his temple.
“Does...nobody else talk to you?” You feel confident enough to ask the question, gently, one hand reaching out to him again and falling on his shoulder.
Ralph stared at you for a moment, then spoke.
“Most humans prefer to….hit me. Young humans. Teenagers.” His gaze fell, though it was only for a second. “I have had to undergo multiple repairs due to the actions of several teenagers that live in the neighborhood nearby.”
Realization slowly dawned over you at his explanation, the reason why he was so taken back by an extremely simple act of kindness.
Your hand gripped his shoulder a little tighter.
“Is that why you weren’t here this morning?”
Ralph nodded after a moment.
“I am programmed to tend to this garden,” he said simply. “And gather the opinions of Detroit residents about my work, the choice of flora and any relevant health hazards during pollen season.”
He paused for only a beat.
“...however, the only feedback that has been given to me until you has been in the form of physical abuse by a group of teenagers who, given recent events, find amusement in hurting androids.”
You weren’t sure how to feel or react to the words. Though they were deeply troubling, Ralph spoke them with such a level of distant coolness that you...weren’t quite sure what to say in response?
“I’m sorry,” came out first, seeming the most appropriate. “You can’t….report them? Or anything?”
The answer was heavy at the bottom of your belly; you knew that he couldn’t just do that--he wasn’t a human, so it wasn’t harassment or abuse, legally speaking at least. The offender could be tried for the damage to property, especially if it was against the city, but you doubted the police force would put that much effort into a single civil-service unit when he could just be...replaced.
The information didn’t sit well with you.
It challenged a lot of what you knew and accepted as true, forced contrasting ideals and opinions to play together in your head. It didn’t feel fair that Ralph could be hurt without consequence, it didn’t feel right that he could be looked at with such little worth and, yet--
It started to make your head hurt. It was so easy to be distant, considering you had no funds to have a house android and you never worked with them directly. It was easy to not care or think about them as people when all they were marketed as hyper-realistic machines.
Machines.
Machines?
But when you had one sitting next to you, staring into your eyes as he talked about being hit and broken, it made something hurt in your heart. It was something genuine in his expression, enough that you were forced to confront the blissful ignorance you’d lived with for the past few years.
In that moment, you couldn’t call him a machine. He wasn’t human, wasn’t flesh and blood in the same way that you were, but he….he was still had the same worth, the same right to happiness that you did.
You felt your hand move, shifting from Ralph’s shoulder to lay over one of his hands.
“I’ll visit you every day,” you promised softly, hoping that it would mean something to him. “And if those teenagers bother you again, I…”
The sentence trailed off. You weren’t sure what you could do, if it meant anything to know when people were harassing him. Nevertheless, firm warmth bubbled into your words as you spoke again.
“If they hurt you again, tell me--okay?”
Ralph blinked and looked at you for a long while. You couldn’t make out any particular expression that moved across his face, any sense of emotion that filled those hazel eyes of his. He finally settled on something akin to happiness--his lips pulled into a soft smile and his LED finally settled onto a soft, comforting blue twinkle of light against his temple.
“Does that mean that we are friends?” he asked after a moment. “I think that the interactions we’ve held so far contribute to friendship, though I do not want to misinterpret your intentions.”
For some reason, his curiosity made you smile all the same.
“Yes,” The word sounded very matter-of-factly. “I think that does mean that we are friends, Ralph.”
The evening lingered pleasantly between the two of you from there, shifting into a gentle conversation that moved from topic to topic, though it largely lingered on the garden itself and Ralph’s work in caring for it. It was obvious how much he loved the plants, loved tending to them and watching them grow, especially since it became apparent that each WR600 model was assigned to a specific district and expected to remain there.
Then the topic moved to you and your job, though you felt intensely odd and awkward to talk about how your occupation was essentially selling androids. There was an intense internal fire going on in your thoughts, and talking about your job didn’t help very much at all, making you feel more awkward and unsure than anything else. Ralph seemed aware of the fact and, thankfully, continued to other topics as the two of you enjoyed one another’s simple company.
By the time you thought to glance at your phone for the time, it had grown late--late enough that you needed to hurry home to prepare for yet another long, exhausting day at the office.
You bid Ralph a goodnight and took joy in the smile from him that followed you out of the garden, the sound of his sweet voice still hanging in your ears even as you readied yourself for bed later that night.
“Goodnight!” He had said, so bright and happy. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning!”
You didn’t know what deviancy was back then. You didn’t understand it, the idea that androids were labeled deviants when they finally had control and free-will over their own happiness and desires.
No, back then it was simpler, easier, and all that mattered was the fact that Ralph seemed happy to have you as a friend.
Looking back, it’s clear that night was when Ralph started becoming a deviant, though you wouldn’t realize it for months--not until your friendship had started to blossom into something more.
#dbh#detroit: become human#ralph#dbh ralph#in your hazel eyes#in your hazel eyes chapter#ralph readershot#sfw readershot#readershot#AT LAST!!!!!#IT IS FINISHED#for now#the next chapters are gonna be ultra fluffy now that the story has its proper set up#readerinsert#reader insert
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